


A Little Change

by bubb



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Branch can be very relatable in a not so good brings back bad memories kinda way so, Car Accidents, F/M, Human AU, Mild Sexual Implications, Occasional angst, Poppy unknowingly sets generic domestic housemates fic into motion, Slow Burn, Smoking, be warned, i mean i guess it is, i've been informed that it probably is, lots of swearing probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-06 01:36:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 162,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8729554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubb/pseuds/bubb
Summary: Here’s a story that’s simplistic in its premise and silly in its tone. Luckily, it attempts to redeem itself with generous helpings of sugar and salt, courtesy of these two college kids named Poppy and Branch.
Mediocrity at its finest but (as Poppy might call it), here’s their whole “Adventure” of living together. Everything from the grinning happy highs to piecing up each others’ shattered spirits.  
But as times passes, both eventually (and unintentionally) dig to the core of who their roommate really is. And lo and behold, the brightest blossoms still wilt when the sun dies and dreary rainclouds are just the façade of tomorrow’s clear skies.





	1. Chapter 1

His insides churned as the damn hunk of metal rattled across a lumpy countryside road. Arms knotted and temple chilled against the window, Branch's vacant gaze found itself focused on a gaggle of preteen girls who took up the two seats in front of him. They chattered away in voices far too shrill for his current mood. One girl's panicked expression after accidentally making eye contact told him that his resting bitch face was as nasty as ever. Somewhere from the back of the bus, a baby wailed and he wondered if that was somehow his fault too. Wouldn't be surprised.

Branch disliked public transport, Branch disliked most things that contained the word 'Public'. Unfortunately on days like today, it couldn't be helped. College loomed nearer like an impending thunder storm and chipped away at his savings bit by bit. If he was ever getting a car, he sure as Hell wasn't getting one anytime soon.

They passed the iconic 'Welcome To Troll Town' sign, decorated with the most g-rated graffiti he had ever seen. At this point, spray painting that sign in particular was no longer considered vandalism. It was like the whole town's giant white board. Branch assumed he was the only local who had never bothered to contribute a silly doodle.

He shook his head despite himself as he stared at the town's mass of grassy hills because no Poppy, they do not look like scoops of pistachio ice cream. They look like grass and the last thing he needs right now is to have your dumb cute little metaphors and your dumb cute little face pop up in his thoughts every time he looks at these goddamn hills.

The bus came to a halt. Finally. Branch stepped off with a mumbled "Thanks" to the driver and promptly decided that he was in no mood for the ten minute walk home. However the idea of slamming his face into a nearby table somewhere spoke volumes to his soul.

He wound up doing just that, sliding into a booth of Mr. Dinkles Ice Cream Parlor and letting his head collapse into folded arms. If he had been a stranger to this town, he would probably be swamped by a mob of concerned faces but he was Branch and everyone who knew him would rather leave him be.

Everyone but one, that is.

He heard her before he saw her. Somehow he always managed to distinguish the sound of undoubtedly technicolor bangles rattling against her wrists. His theory was then confirmed by her unmistakable humming and driven home by a pair of knees bumping against his own.

"Not now." He said without looking up, words muffled against his sleeve.

"Aww c'mon! It's too early to shut me down, usually you give me a couple of seconds to talk."

Branch lifted his head, expression stony.

Poppy was smiling, one hand cupping her cheek, the other wriggling fingers in greeting. "Hey there, Grumpy bear!"

"Not now." He repeated, crashing his face down yet again.

"If you don't wrap up your pouting soon and dig in, your ice cream's gonna melt."

That caught his attention. Sitting up slightly, he only now noticed the extravagantly large and sugary caramel sundae along with a small simple cup of chocolate ice cream.

Poppy was fidgeting in her seat, gaze snapping between the two treats. "I dunno, I know you always say you like chocolate and it's what you always order when you come here but it just looks so small and plain compared to mine, do you want me to go up and get you a bigger one, I mean I can-"

"It's fine." Branch fought to keep his lip from tugging upwards and pulled out his wallet. "How much?"

She blinked at him incredulously. "You're broke, Branch."

He opened his wallet and took a moment to stare into the empty abyss. "Wow, thanks for the reminder. Couldn't let me pretend...not even for a minute. You're great, really. Don't know what I'd do without ya."

"Awwww that is the sweetest thing you've ever-"

"Sarcasm, Poppy. Sarcasm."

Her grin deflated and scrunched into what he assumed was a scowl. The problem was Poppy couldn't scowl to save her life. "Couldn't let me pretend...not even for a minute."

Branch snorted, shoveling a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "What do you want anyway?"

"Well I saw you when you came in and you just.." She sprawled her arms across the surface with a huff, miming a rather dramatic flop. "You seemed a lot more gloom and doom than usual. And that's sayin' something. And you wouldn't even let me say hi before you shut me down. I mean I guess the ice cream kinda brightened things up.."

_Oh yeah, it was a crappy cup of ice cream that brightened things up and not the actual personification of sunshine sitting right in front of me._

No. He definitely couldn't say that to her, no matter how sarcastic it was.

"But what's up? Is there something wrong? I figured the ice cream would be a good ice breaker," Her eyes widened in realization. "Or an ice _cream_ breaker." She dissolved into bubbling giggles. "Branch, Branch! Can you believe that? I just-I didn't even plan that, just walked right into it!" Throwing her head back, rich undiluted laughter filled the air. Funny how she could get so much joy out of something so stupid.

Branch allowed a few precious moments of gormless gaping before inhaling deeply in case he found himself with no breath the next time she expected him to speak. "That's terrible."

"I know," Poppy wheezed before sitting bolt upright and attempting to compose herself. She flipped some loose bubblegum pink locks over her shoulder and began tucking into her own frozen delicacy. "Now d'you wanna tell me what the problem is?"

"I'm tired." He replied automatically.

She prodded her spoon at him far too vigorously for his liking. "Ohhh no! Whenever something's wrong, you say you're tired. I'm not fallin' for it today. What's the matter, Branch?"

Sometimes he told her to get lost, sometimes he would actually converse with her. It all depended on his mood. Weirdly enough, today it was the combination of wishing to vent his frustration and the soft sweetness of ice cream on his tongue that got him to talk.

"I can't get accommodation." He blurted out, whipping out his phone and poking the gallery icon.

Poppy furrowed her brow in confusion. "For college?"

Branch nodded. "I mean, I can but...kinda. I-I just can't get good accommodation, I can get...just..just look." At a loss for words, he shoved his phone towards her, scrolling through the photos he'd taken today. Images of run down kitchens, leaky ceilings, moth eaten plush couches, every picture as uncomfortable looking as the last. Even Poppy, who managed to find the bright side of spoiled milk, didn't look impressed.

"I know Bergen Town's a dump but I didn't expect all the flats to be this bad." Branch grimaced as his finger stopped at a particularly prominent brown stain against a beige carpet. There had apparently been a rat infestation in that apartment and he didn't even want to think about whatever that stain was.

"They're not all like that." Poppy implored, scooching forward in her seat. "I already bought my place and it looks adorable. It's on West Street, have you tried looking on that side of-?"

"Poppy." He suddenly felt very tired. "I know not all the apartments are like that. But the only ones I can afford are the crappy ones. As you said, I'm broke. I'm not the mayor's kid. I don't have cash spilling out of my pockets. I'm not like you."

Well. That certainly wasn't supposed to sound as bitter as it did. The glow in Poppy's glittering cheeks dimmed and she nodded. "O-oh, oh yeah..uhh..." She cleared her throat. "Yeah, you're right I'm sorry."

_You're sorry?! Why should you be sorry? I'm the asshole. You're just the cute girl who bought me ice cream._

"It's okay. It's not really all that bad. I'm just gonna have a kinda shit home but hey, I'll live. Buy some thermal blankets. It'll be fine."

"Can't you stay in one of the dorms?"

He shook his head. "Roommates, Poppy. Roommates."

"Right, right..." Poppy muttered and swallowed another helping of gooey sprinkled caramel. They fell into a comfortable silence for several minutes before she all but screeched "Wait!"

"What?!" Branch hadn't meant to yelp although as long as he'd known Poppy, he had never grown accustomed to her startling outbursts. They made him jump to this day.

"You said thermal blankets...are these places not...? Do they not have..?" She squinted at him. "Branch, are you actually telling me that you're planning on staying in a flat in Bergen Town with no heating?" Suddenly she was standing, hands on the hips, staring him down with an odd expression. The look seemed to aim for stern but there was always that slight softness that never fully faded. Poppy would make a great mom one day, he thought absentmindedly.

"It's not like it's gonna be _that_ much of a problem..."

"Branch! Bergen Town is like a glacier during the winter, you know that! All your toes are gonna fall off and ohhhh boy, if you think you're bad at dancing now-"

"I never said I was bad at dancing, I just don't like dancing!"

"Not to mention all the sniffles you're gonna get, I mean how are you gonna attend your classes if you're sick all throughout the winter?!"

"Hey, hey Little Miss Brightside. Consider the strong immunity I'll build up."

"And you're willing to go through all this just cause you're too much of a baby to tolerate rooming with somebody."

Branch exhaled, raising a hand to scrub his forehead. He should really take a nap when he gets home. "You know I wouldn't survive having to share my room with someone."

Clearly she did know that as she sighed, exasperation touching her features. He waited expectantly for her to lower and slump into her seat although she apparently wasn't done surprising him today.

"Okay, ya know what?!" Poppy snapped, slapping her palms against the tabletop and leaning down to lock her gaze with his. Their noses were inches apart.

Branch suddenly understood the feeling of a deer in the headlights, complete with a hammering heart and bedazzling yet paralyzing glow.

Poppy worried her bottom lip, though otherwise her expression was firm. "You're going to stay with me." She stated with as much finality as she could muster.

"Wh-?" Yeah, okay. He couldn't breathe. If the headlight could back the Hell up from the deer, that would be great.

Forcing out a cough to cover his weak attempt at speech, he reached out a palm and shoved her away by the forehead. "How many times do we need to talk about personal space?" He gave her a level look as if she hadn't just caused his brain to malfunction for several seconds. "What do you mean by stay with you?"

Poppy looked eager. "I mean, stay in my flat with me. I didn't even bother bringing it up at first cause hey, when have you ever taken me up on an offer?"

Branch wriggled slightly in his seat, his thoughts flying to the stacks of rejected party invitations horded under his bed back home.

"But then I heard you have no heating so nope, I'm not even giving you the choice. I'm not letting you be miserable all through college. You're gonna move in with me. Sorry, buddy. It's final." She nodded sharply and crossed her arms, a smug little smile playing across her lips.

"Yeah, no."

"Wha-? No?" Branch almost laughed at how quick the satisfied air evaporated and was replaced with the look of a pouting toddler.

"There is no way in Hell I'm living with you. Are you not seeing any flaws with this arrangement? None at all? Cause I'm thinking of a lot right now!"

"Name one."

_Where to start?_

"You can't go a week without throwing a party and excuse me if I don't wanna sleep in a goddamn nightclub!"

"Okay then. No parties."

"I mean I couldn't even-wait..wait, what?"

Poppy was looking as if she were in a business meeting as opposed to having a discussion over ice cream with a long time acquaintance/friend/occasional enemy. She shrugged "I can have parties anywhere. If I make friends-" ' _If' she says. Talking like the entire population of Bergen Town isn't going to flock to her like moths to a flame._ "-then I'll be sure to tell them that my place is off limits for any kinds of parties. But I'm sure a lot of them will have flats of their own. Problem solved."

"Where would I even sleep? On the floor?"

"Well, the original plan was parties nonstop so I had a spare room for anyone who wanted to spend the night."

Branch studied her face, hoping to find the tiniest pinch of hesitance. Come on, where's that _'Wait a minute. Maybe I don't want a killjoy to ruin my college experience.'_ look. But he knew she didn't think like that. Poppy would never think like that. A part of him sometimes wished she did. Maybe avoid eye contact with him once in a while, pretend she didn't see him when she didn't want her day spoiled, give him that strained polite smile that wrote plain and simple that she wanted nothing to do with him. Hell, if she just acted like everyone else did with him, then maybe he wouldn't have to deal with her invading his mind at 3AM.

"I-I can't..." He was floundering now. " I can't afford it. I mean, you can't just be expecting me to hang around in your flat without pulling some kind of weight."

She was going to have a solution to all of his concerns, wasn't she? The dreaded thought settled in as Poppy's smile never once wavered. "I'll continue paying the rent until you've saved up enough to pay me back."

"Saved up from where?"

Poppy almost looked offended. "You're going to be getting a job, Branch. Don't think I don't know that. You hate having too much free time on your hands."

Attention to detail. A gift to her scrapbooking skills, a curse to his patience.

"Also," Her voice was meek. "Now that I think about, I really don't think I'm ready to live on my own" She gazed at him for a moment, eyes soft and the curl of her lips almost pleading.

Alright. Now, some senseless part of him wanted to say 'Yes' which meant that he needed to get the Hell out of here right now before he agreed to anything stupid.

"No." Branch realized he was spurting a series of "No, no, no." as he hastily wormed his body out of the booth. He hoped the buckling of his legs was unnoticeable under his jeans. He glanced at Poppy and was instantly stung by her hurt expression although kept his face neutral. "Thanks for the offer and the ice cream but no. I'll take my chances with the shitty flat. Okay, bye."

He was gone. He shot like a bullet towards the exit and walked at a brisk pace through the streets until he reached home.

Poppy made no attempt to follow him. The observation chewed at his mind and heart all throughout the night. No cry of "Branch, wait!", no strappy pink sandals slapping against the sidewalk in an attempt to keep up with his long strides. Maybe she had finally had it. Branch felt relieved at the thought. Finally, Poppy could forget about what was probably the most unpleasant aspect of her life. She wouldn't have to converse with the neighborhood grump anymore.

Branch was delighted to be rid of her. So delighted that he was already tugging out his box of party invitations from under his bed and would probably spend the night staring at them. Out of pure celebration, of course. Right.

It was going to be a long night.

He was halfway done admiring the craftsmanship of a slumber party invite that he had received at fourteen when his phone buzzed.

Branch swiveled around in his desk chair and glanced at the name on the glowing screen. Poppy.

His stomach did a flip. Out of disappointment, of course.

Opening the text, he blinked at the image. Staring back at him were two small children, standing against a winter background. They wore bright toothy grins, the light in their eyes frozen by the flash of the camera. The girl, clad in a pink parka, was looking frazzled, a lump of snow crumbling down her woolly hat.

Branch snorted. Had this been taken after he dumped a snowball on Poppy's head?

His gaze traveled across the screen to examine his younger self. The boy looked absolutely thrilled despite resembling a pile of laundry. Wearing no less than four layers and a winter coat, Branch wondered how many times he got teased back then for waddling around like a penguin.

He noticed the three chat bubbles popping up and disappearing under the image and braced himself for whatever novel of nostalgia Poppy planned on sending him.

His phone buzzed again.

_'Remember how Grandma Rosiepuff wouldn't let you leave the house until she was sure you wouldn't get cold?'_

Branch was still. A lump built itself in the back of his throat and it felt like a rock had been dropped in the pit of his stomach.

He wanted to smash the phone against a wall, he wanted to take every individual invitation and rip them to shreds, he wanted to scream at Poppy that she should never open her huge fucking mouth ever again because good God, that was low.

His phone clattered against the desk and he took several deep breaths. One niggling thought surfaced to the fore front of his mind and he was forced to acknowledge it before he shattered the nearby porcelain mouse ornament Poppy bought him last Christmas.

She hadn't intended to use his grandma as a dirty tactic. Years later he could still see the admiration in her little four year old face as Rosiepuff taught her the basics of how to make cookies. Poppy respected his grandma and her wishes and she knew damn well that if Branch considered the old woman during their exchange at the ice cream parlor, they would already be deciding curtain colors. Poppy just wanted what Rosiepuff wanted. Her text wasn't an attempt to yank at his heartstrings, it was a reminder.

He took a very long time to write a very short reply. _'ok'_


	2. Chapter 2

Once Poppy felt herself shiver, it became clear that things would soon be swerving in a totally new direction. Sprawled out in Marigold Meadow, soaking in rays of sunlight like a sleepy kitten, a bitter chill crept its way up her forearms. She had no jacket. Enraptured with the euphoric haze of summer, nobody had any need for one. It hit her right then and there.

Summer was fading and the changing of leaves meant the changing of her lifestyle.

One afternoon found her spinning in her father's revolving office chair in between printing out files. While several of her friends would also be attending Bergen Town Technical Institute, Poppy was determined to give a proper farewell to all the locals she would be leaving behind. All five hundred and eighty seven of them.

She spent about a week circling the town with the entire population's census records tucked under her arm. From door to door, to store to store, everyone received a personalized Poppy goodbye speech complete with a hug. To quote a bewildered Branch who she spotted coming out of the pharmacy, she was "A complete lunatic" for doing this.

_'Ur gonna be sorry when u go thru troll town withdrawal and end up missing every1.'_

She poked in a couple of laughing emojis before sending the text and slumped down on to her bed to relieve her throbbing feet. Well, she did it. All five hundred and eighty seven goodbyes. "Whoo!" She whooped breathlessly, throwing a weak fist in the air as she waited for a response.

Ever since their rooming agreement, Poppy and Branch had been texting each other a lot. It began with Branch mentioning that he would require at least three hours of seclusion a day and continued with Poppy bringing up dinner choices and soon they were both listing out their favorite foods and dividing chores between them. Things soon spiraled out of control, memes were being sent, memes were being ignored. Typical.

Poppy was also slowly but surely warming him up to the idea of christening Friday as their own special movie night. 'Warming him up' meaning that he made a non-committal grunt yesterday as opposed to an outright rejection so yeah, she was getting there. Mentioning that he would be allowed to pick the movie every second week had definitely worked in her favor.

Somehow, Branch fought the urge to reply to her text with a snarky comment and settled for a simple inquiry of when he should expect her.

_'be there in an hour pls enjoy the time u have left with ur home'_

They were leaving for Bergen Town today and while Branch spent a solid hour deliberating his options that Poppy personally didn't consider much of a competition, he ultimately chose his mode of transportation as her car as opposed to the the bus. Apparently fifty six passengers were equally annoying as a single sugar pumped Poppy.

She hoisted herself up by the elbows and began packing the last remnants of her bare bedroom. Her guitar, some stuffed animals, stray tubes of lip gloss and of course, the little pink haired troll doll that lived on her dresser. Couldn't go to college without her little guardian after all. The remaining possessions were then tossed into the bright pink duffel bag on her desk.

Finally, with as much giddy excitement as a child clutching their favorite toy, she picked up the badly battered golden cowbell.

"Will you be taking that to college?"

Poppy turned to find her father leaning in the door frame with a wide smile and tired eyes, his bushy hair and mustache growing grayer by the day.

There was a moment of silence as she gazed at her cherished instrument before giving a definite nod, a beam stretching across her face. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. Branch has been telling me since we were kids to be prepared sooo..." She trailed off, feeling the weight of the bell in her hands. "So what if I meet someone?"

Centuries ago, a poor yet eccentric musician of Troll Town proposed to the love of his life, not with a golden ring, but with his finest and shiniest cowbell. Throughout the years, the cowbell had become a prized possession among his family line and descended from parent to child to give to the love of their life. Branch had said it was one of the stupidest traditions he had ever heard of but then again, neither Poppy nor her family were ever known for being particularly dignified.

"I can't believe you're already at an age where you're considering giving away your cowbell." Peppy mused, gently taking hold of his daughter's hand and bringing it up before his eyes. His withering face was lost with nostalgia. "Back when I first handed it down to you, your little hand was no bigger than my forefinger. And now look at you. Off to college, ready to give your love away, leaving your poor ol' dad behind..."

"Hey, hey no guilting me into staying home!" Poppy laughed as her dad gave his most dramatic pleading pout complete with a puppy-like whimper. "And it's not like I'll be totally gone, Dad. I said I would call you everyday, text you five times a day, send you a ton of emails, skype-"

"Poppy, you know I'm clueless with the skype-"

"No, no." She seized Peppy's shoulders, the family resemblance clear in their identical smiles. "You'll figure it out, Daddy. It's all gonna be okay. Hug?"

"But it's not hug time." He muttered glumly.

"As future mayor, I decree that the current mayor can hug his precious daughter whenever he feels like it!"

Peppy didn't get the chance to respond as the weight of his daughter's entire body was knocking against him with far more force than he expected. Suddenly, she didn't want to let go. Her arms tightened and her head buried itself in the crook of his neck. "You're going to miss me too, aren't you, dear?" He chuckled.

There was an affirmative squeak before she pried herself off, using all the self control she possessed.

"But." Poppy managed, striding across the room and shoving her cowbell into the duffel bag before zipping it up and swinging it over her shoulder. "I happen to be a strong, brave young woman who is ready to grow up and move out so I'm gonna say goodbye to my daddy with absolutely no tears."

To her credit, she did manage to avoid crying although the two of them spent an additional fifteen minutes hugging by the porch before they let each other go.

Hopefully Branch wouldn't mind that she was late.

Bouncing up to his apartment door, buzzing with adrenaline, she rapped her knuckles against wood to the tune of the latest pop song that was stuck in her head, blatantly ignoring the premonition that it was going to frustrate him.

Something clanged and fell and she heard his muffled swears through the wall. There was another loud thump and a yell and some stomping footsteps drawing near. Branch swung the door open to let her in and immediately turned his back on her. He limped across the room and crumpled on his couch, massaging his left shin.

"Afternoon, Mr. Gloom!" She chirped, leaning over the armrest to inspect his leg. "So, what did you do?"

"Hit it against the bookshelf." He grumbled, eyes focused anywhere but her.

Poppy winced and headed towards his little block of a kitchen. She protruded a bag of frozen broccoli from the freezer and tossed it at him. Miraculously, he caught it.

"Woah, didn't even give you a heads up. If you're that aware of your surroundings, how did manage to crash into a bookshelf?"

"I didn't crash. All I did was hit my-"

"I heard it fall, Branch."

Poppy couldn't resist a giggle as a flush crept up his neck but stifled it when he turned his glare on her. "So you all packed to go?" She noticed five sealed shut cardboard boxes stacked up by the wall. "The place looks a lot emptier than usual."

"It's not like I had jack shit to begin with, Poppy." He deadpanned, pressing the broccoli bag against his leg.

She felt a pang of guilt but continued regardless. "I mean, you did have a lot of trash hanging around. You throw it all out?"

"Uh.." She caught the sheepish look that passed his features before it shifted into a look of indifference. "Yeah. Yeah, I-uh dumped it all. It's gone. All of it."

"Uh huh." Without so much as blinking, she strode across the room and plucked a box from the pile and shook. It made the sound of jangling scraps of metal. "No, Branch."

"Just listen-"

"No, Branch."

"Poppy, you don't understand-"

"I understand that I'm paying the rent. You are not bringing five boxes worth of trash to our new home."

They ended up leaving a little later than expected as they had to spend over an hour discussing Branch's hoarding problem and then proceeded to drop the boxes off at the dump. However there was one box that Branch insisted on keeping. While, he didn't let her look inside, he swore it wasn't trash and swerved around her curiosity by deeming its contents 'Personal'. Poppy allowed it. Reluctantly.

"You're lucky I have room for it in the trunk." She said, buckling her seatbelt and starting up the car. "Also do you mind if we make a teensy weensy little detour?"

Branch whipped his head to face her, looking slightly unnerved at the higher pitch her voice had taken on. "I'm not gonna like this, am I?"

Poppy wriggled as her shoulders slumped over the steering wheel. "I just wanna say a quick hi and bye to Creek before we go. That's all."

As expected, Branch didn't look pleased. His mouth opened and shut like a gaping goldfish, open palms hovering over the dashboards before he managed to speak. "W-wuh..." It took him seconds to compose himself. "Poppy, you do realize I go to great lengths to avoid that guy, right?"

She felt herself bounce in her seat "Aww c'mon, you can stay in the car if you want. But I haven't gotten to see him since..." She trailed off, trying to remember the last time she and Creek had gotten the chance to talk. It had been a while.

"Yesterday!" Branch cried. "You saw him yesterday. He booped your nose. He tried to look in my groceries. He said 'namaste' like seventeen times. Do you really need a repeat of that?"

There was a moment of silence. "I mean...you don't have groceries this time,"

"Poppy, please."

"Listen, listen..." Poppy had already started up the engine and was reversing out of Branch's driveway. "I'll be real quick, I promise."

Throughout the drive to Creek's house, Branch made the effort to compose an entire symphony in nothing but disgruntled groans. Even his interludes were nothing but complaining. It was an educational experience. Poppy learned that Branch was not a fan of Creek's yellow pants. Frankly, she thought they were cute.

"Oh, there he is!" Poppy exclaimed, drowning out a particularly dramatic whine.

Creek was standing at his porch, balanced on one leg, the other in the air with one arm stretching far west. His expression was serene, turquoise hair gleaming in the light of the setting sun. It seems they had caught him during his yoga hour.

"Look how flexible he is. It's amazing!" Poppy gushed.

"Why does he never wear a shirt?" Branch wondered aloud to a nonexistent audience as Poppy had already hopped out and slammed the door.

"How do you do, guru?" She called, stepping giddily across his lawn.

Creek turned and brightened at the sight of her "Poppy! How's the flamingo princess herself?"

She blushed and ran a lock of hair between her fingers. "As pink as ever, thanks for asking."

He chuckled. "Yes, definitely looks like it." His gaze ventured out and settled on her car. "So I assume you're setting off to Bergen Town then?"

Poppy nodded. "Yep, came to say bye before we left. You up for a goodbye hug?" She widened her arms in anticipation, a gesture he accepted gladly.

"You know I'm always ready for hugs, 'specially from you but.." Creek broke the hug first, wearing a lopsided smile. A very nice smile, she noted. "You know I'm going to Bergen Town too, I'm leaving tomorrow. I've told you this, haven't I?"

"Well, yeah but I still won't see you 'til tomorrow, I'm gonna miss youuu," Poppy stopped as an epiphany stuck. "Wait, wait what if you just come with us to-?"

Both of them nearly jumped out of their skins at the sudden blare of a nearby car horn. Branch had his hand pressed firmly on the staring wheel, a dead eyed stare on his face.

_He hasn't even moved in yet and he's already on the path to getting kicked out._

Poppy facepalmed, Creek just looked amused. "Um, does Branch need a ride somewhere?"

"He's my new housemate."

Creek looked at her as if it was her relative's funeral. She received that look a lot when things concerned Branch. Faint annoyance twinged in the pit of her stomach though she fought to ignore it. Creek wasn't the type to judge Branch after all. Creek was one of the kindest people in Troll Town.

"Okay, so I should get going. I'll see you tomorrow, text you later, maybe call you tonight-"

"Now, hold on, hold on." Creek's waved an absentminded hand. "C'mon, I should say hello to Branch before you two leave. We really don't talk enough."

A hand crept down the small of her back and she felt herself being steered in the direction of the car. Creek opened her door, took her hand and helped her inside like they were a footman and his princess. "M'lady." He grinned, nodding politely.

Poppy giggled and returned his nod. "Thank you, good sir!"

She heard a scoff from her right side.

Creek rested his arm over the car's roof and leaned forward to get a good look at her passenger. "Hello, Branch. Looking forward to college, are we?"

Branch didn't respond, just as unamused as he had been since they arrived here.

Poppy lightly slapped his knee. "Hey, be nice. Say something."

"Your pants make you look like a moldy lemon."

_Okay then. Maybe specify what you want him to say next time._

Creek threw back his head and laughed. "Alright, Branch. It really is nice to see you too." He turned his gaze on Poppy. "I assume I'll be hearing from you soon?"

She nodded eagerly. "Definitely!"

He gently poked her nose ("Boop!") and returned to yoga hour. He was just so dedicated, Poppy thought with awe.

* * *

 

"I don't see why you don't like him." They were five miles away from his house and Branch had still not finished complaining about Creek.

"I don't see why you _do_ like him."

"He's nice, Branch. Nice, sweet, caring..."

"Firstly, all those words have the same meaning. Secondly, it's all an act. That guy is full of slime."

Poppy sighed, exasperated. How many times have they had this conversation? "Creek has never shown a single sign of being slimy. We've been through this."

"Instincts!" Branch exclaimed. "I'm trusting my instincts. You have no idea how annoying it is being the only person in Troll Town who sees past that guy's shit."

"Okay! ya know what? I decree as future mayor that there will be no more swearing in my car!" She beeped the horn with the same force that a judge would bang a gavel.

"You can't just decree that, that's not a thing you can decree!"

"Take it up with the court, kid."

For a solid hour, the two young adults bickered like children and by the time they pulled in at a drive through McDonald's, Poppy was debating whether of not to ask Branch if he wanted a Happy Meal.

_Boy could use some happiness._

"Do we need to eat here?" Branch wrinkled his nose at the giant luminescent M that hung over the restaurant. "This place is really unhealthy."

"You have stayed up 'til 4am watching Conspiracy Theory Documentaries on several occasions and _this_ is what's unhealthy?"

Predictably, Branch didn't respond, slumping into his seat with his arms crossed, a petulant look on his face.

They wound up getting lost and had to ask for help from a particularly airheaded hippy loitering outside a gas station. While their exchange with him did end with Branch threatening him with a stick, his directions actually set them on the right path.

By the time they reached Bergen Town, dusk had fallen over the area, their road lit by street lamps. Branch, for all the times he had lectured her about constant vigilance, had fallen asleep, head lolling against his shoulder, deep snores rumbling from his throat.

Poppy parallel parked outside the apartment complex and felt herself exhale with relief as the engine powered down. Manicured fingertips reached out to rouse Branch but stopped midway. Chewing at her bottom lip, she stepped out and circled around to open Branch's door. The amber glow of a nearby street lamp gave her a perfect view of him. Disheveled raven hair stood up in cowlicks while some pesky strands fell like trails of ink down his forehead. She wiped them away with steady fingers. A round face, still not trimmed of its baby fat, for once entirely tranquil. She found herself wishing he slept more. He looked relaxed and as someone who had been trying to get him to loosen up since they were children, this sight was surreal.

"Branch.." Poppy whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. "Branch, we're here."

He stirred, mumbling something about coconuts as his bleary eyes traveled upwards to meet hers. They were a sky blue, she noticed.

He blinked, gazing up at her with a vacant look that told her that most of Branch still resided in Dreamland.

"You're quite pretty, you know." She said casually. "For a guy, anyway. Especially when you're not doing your grumpy face." Poppy grinned down at him mischievously, ready for whatever come back he threw at her.

But his sleep muddled mind had not yet built up its barriers and the smallest of smiles ghosted across Branch's expression, a chuckle escaping through his nose. "Shut up, Poppy."

Through his hoarse voice, Poppy caught the faintest tone of endearment. She thought back to earlier and saw Creek's apologetic look at hearing the news of the rooming arrangement and it stung just the slightest bit worse. It had always been the same. Why invite Branch? Why hang out with Branch? Why do any of this with Branch? She had been hearing this for years and while she never argued, the same simple answer would chime inside her head. Because, while Branch had enough flaws to fill a novel, Poppy wasn't giving up on him so no matter how much Branch argued against the title, he would always _always_ be her friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now just a heads up but if you're not a fan of fics with Creek, time to abandon ship cause he's gonna be part of the plot. Yeah, this stupid thing has a plot. I was surprised too.  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

Sometimes Branch considered toning down on how much time he spent time with Poppy, not just because the mere essence of her caused him occasional heart failure while simultaneously driving him to madness, but that she could be eerily observant to his behavior.

It was the morning after their arrival and while Poppy was busy accessorizing their new couch with bedazzled cushions (how could they possibly be comfortable?) he was pulling on a jacket. She looked up with mild interest.

"Really, Branch? Already? We've only just moved in, we're barely unpacked."

Branch paused, puzzled. "You saying I shouldn't leave the house yet or...?"

She set another hideous cushion down with a definite plop. "I'm saying we haven't even been here twenty four hours and you're already going out, job hunting."

"How the Hell did you know that I was going job hunting?"

"You can't stand feeling unproductive. You always gotta have some sort of income or project or you start getting antsy. That's a Branch lesson 101, buddy. "

Needless to say, he left immediately after that comment, but not before making a note on his phone once she yelled at him to get some bread and milk while he was out.

During his five hours of roaming the hustling bustling city, the stereotypical rumors were confirmed that Bergen Town was indeed, full of assholes. He had not come across one smiling Bergen Town local (or Bergen, as they called them back home)in his ventures and frankly, his first thought on the matter was how Poppy was going to fix it. Of course, she was going to notice the deficiency in cheer and there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that the girl would not rest until the entire town was doused in everlasting joy. At the very least, they would adore her with all their heart and soul by her third month here.

_Take it from a professional, no matter how much of a grumpy dick you are, it is impossible not to love Poppy._

He came across several _'Help Wanted'_ signs but oddly enough, was denied employment upon entrance. He narrowed it down to either his Troll Town status or his ratty jacket. He guessed the former. Bergens were crazy for Troll Town cuisine but hated the locals themselves. Far too happy for their liking. With his own history of criticizing his hometown's antics, Branch couldn't really blame them.

 _'Captain Starfunkle's Roller Rink And Arcade'_ was not a name he ever assumed would cause him to sigh with relief. On the contrary, the idea of anything related to arcades or roller rinks flooded his thoughts with flashbacks of Poppy's hand clutching his wrist, insisting "This will be fun!" while a soundtrack of screaming children echoed in the background.

Apparently, the place was desperate and hired the surly faced Troll Town kid without a second thought. The pay was minimum wage and he would have to focus on finding a second job once he was settled in.

Blaring traffic noises and roaring pedestrians still played in his head like white noise by the time he got home. He slammed the door behind him and made a bee-line for the kitchen, ignoring a curious Poppy who was sitting on her knees in the living room.

Branch had already shoved most of his recently purchased groceries into the fridge when he felt her hovering in the door frame, her eyes rested on the back of his head. "I'll give you three seconds to bolt so you can pretend you're not spying on me."

Three seconds came and went, a lack of scampering footsteps blatantly present. He turned. Poppy was standing firm, one hand on her hip, chin tilted upwards, expression uncompromising.

"What happened?"

"I'm tire-"

"It's not because you're tired, what happened?"

Well, she was demanding tonight. How Poppy was able to differentiate between perpetually grumpy Branch or perpetually grumpy Branch on a bad day, he could never tell.

He released a long suffering sigh. "I got a shit job."

"Have you ever liked any of your jobs though?" She padded across the kitchen and perched herself on the counter.

"Okay, correction. I got shit pay." Despite himself, he felt his weight shift as his body leaned against the island. "All I could get was this arcade place, minimum wage. I'm also gonna have to put up with a billion whiny kids....oh and those weird adults who hang around in arcades."

"Hey!" Poppy's ridiculous attempt at a glare struck again. "I like arcades!"

"More people like you, I rest my case."

She reached over and flapped her hand in his direction until she landed a weak slap on his chest.

Branch snorted. "So yeah, I was hoping I'd only have to get one job while I'm here studying but looks like I'll need two."

Poppy suddenly squeaked ("Jesus, can you stop doing that!") and slid off her counter. "Wait right there, Imma hook you up!"

She zipped out of the room and returned not a minute later, a weather beaten slip of paper crinkling in her fidgeting fingers. "So there's this contest-"

"When was the last time I've ever entered a contest?"

"Shush! So it's kinda like a poetry contest-"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, what?!" If Branch's panic wasn't evident by the crack of his tone, it was certainly highlighted by the way his body snapped upright, straight as a pencil.

_Shit, shit, shit, she knows, she knows, she knows, she knows._

Poppy blinked at him, thoroughly perplexed. "No need to be scared about it. I'm sure the judges don't send you back critique if that's what you're-"

"Poppy!" Branch raked a hand through his hair, making an effort to calm his tone before he spoke again. His air of indifference was partly regained, thankfully. "Where would you even get the notion that I would ever enter a poetry contest? Like, do I seem like fucking Shakespeare to you? I've never even-, It's-It's not something I-" He made the wise decision to seal his jaw shut, deciding that appearing too nervous would give Poppy far more leverage than she needed.

"Braaanch." Poppy groaned, tipping her head to the ceiling. She then directed a knowing grin at him. "Why do you gotta be this way, man? We all know you're a natural poet!"

_She does know._

"Okay, I have no idea, just...just no idea what you're talking about."

She shifted her weight to one foot and crossed her arms, cocking an eyebrow. "Uhh, first grade? Ring a bell?"

Branch's internal panic attack collapsed in an instant, only to be replaced by pure bafflement.

"What?" His tone was as flat as his expression.

Poppy brightened, delighted to explain. "Aw, you don't remember? Too bad, it was crazy weird. So back when we were kids, there was that poetry contest and I'm pretty sure the prize was an MP3 player so you can imagine, everyone lost their minds. It was pretty funny, actually. And we all were like super competitive, it was the most intense thing to happen all year. And you won! Remember that? We were all in the auditorium and they called your name and read your poem and the crowd just went wild. It was so good, Branch, don't you remember?"

He did. Bits and pieces, at least. He remembered the hysteria, he remembered the applause, he remembered the pride in his grandmother's face as he recounted the story. "I barely remember that. What was the poem even about?"

"Cookies, I think."

Branch smirked. "You're telling me you're judging my poetic ability based on my prior works as a six year old."

Poppy smiled, her simplistic yet shining smile. "Yep."

Unsurprisingly, he didn't have an argument to that. He rejected her proposition although he spent the rest of the night allowing her unwavering faith in him chew away at all logical thought.

At around 11pm, she slid the paper under his door and he actually gave it a scan through. It was for some Bergen Town magazine, specifically marketed towards population of college students and there was apparently a page nearing the back that they dubbed 'Poetry Corner.' While they accepted several amateur poets, there would always be one recurring writer, sharing their newest work every week. A pretty easy job for someone who poetry came naturally to. If Branch had any interest in sharing his work with the public, he may have even considered it.

* * *

 

It took the two of them no more than a week to roll into a routine. Whoever woke up first made breakfast, usually Branch. He was an early bird. He was also a night owl. To be blunt, Branch just didn't get as much sleep as he should and Poppy was concerned.

Classes dragged on like his tired feet in the mornings although Branch wasn't surprised. He expected this and he liked things predictable. The only unpredictable thing he found himself somewhat liking, was Poppy and that was incomprehensible enough on its own so a majority of the time, he just tried not to think about it.

So yes, for a full week, classes were dull and Poppy confused him in more ways than one. Same old, same old.

Hoodie disheveled and blinking in and out of consciousness, he trudged sluggishly down the city, after a particularly long day. Some guys had tried to befriend him today and Branch had to go through that long awkward process of making himself out to be an asshole so they shriveled up and turned their back on him. He wished people would leave him alone. At least then, they could be left with a mere indifferent opinion towards him. It stung a lot less than the dislike that he, for some reason, felt the need to implant in others' heads.

"Branch! Branch, wait!"

And yet, for some bizarre reason, she was never discouraged by his asshole tendencies.

He kept walking, allowing Poppy to get swallowed up by hoard of Bergen Town construction workers. He later pondered how he ever expected that to work as she was at his side in less than fifteen seconds, wheezing and scrabbling to straighten her blouse and unkempt hair. "Did you not hear me yelling at you?!"

"Nope, not at all." He shoved his fists into his pockets, keeping his eyes dead set ahead.

She bumped her elbow against his own, clearly irritated. "I waited outside your class for you to come out and I didn't even notice at first but you like," She shot her palm forwards, making a little "Zoom" sound. "And I didn't see you until you're were like, at the other side of campus, why'd you leave so fast?"

"Why would I wanna stay?" He mumbled, feeling the slightest pang of guilt after hearing she had actually waited for him and he was too absorbed in utter nonsense to notice."And why aren't you in class? I thought you had like another hour."

"Canceled!" She chirped, adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag. "So I guess I should cook dinner tonight and give poor ol' Branch a break."

"No way in Hell, you loon."

Poppy stopped dead in her tracks and her hands flew to her hips. "Excuse me? What's wrong with my cooking?"

"What _isn't_ wrong with your cooking?" Branch also stopped. He was a man of business and didn't enjoy lollygagging however he was hardly able to resist the temptation when an opportunity to make fun of Poppy arose. "Did you or did you not put gummy bears in a casserole two days ago?"

"Well, just because _some people_ don't enjoy flavor-"

"Flavor?!" Branch almost laughed. "Poppy, it was an abomination to the culinary arts."

"Okay, so suddenly you're Gordon Ramsey and you're gonna roast me on-"

"Hey, hey! All I try and do is make our food edible!"

"You've got some sort of vegetarian agenda goin' on, bud. Don't think I don't notice!" Jutting a dramatic finger at him, she suddenly threw her nose in the air and strode past him. "Your plans have finally been exposed Branch!" She called after him. "How does it feel?"

Smirking, he jogged to keep up with her. "Oh, so I make one comment about your cooking and now you're trying to accuse me of converting you? That's low, Poppy, real low."

She said nothing, expression airy and quickened her pace so all he could see was the back of her bright pink ponytail swishing from side to side.

Branch broke into a trot yet again, just a hair behind her as he called out all of her prior meals, including Fun Dip sprinkled pancakes, pizza topped with Skittles, sweet and sour chicken laced with lollipop shards. "And that's just in the last year. Do you wanna go into detail about all the stuff you made as a kid?" His lip was flickering into a smile as he spoke, snorts escaping between every couple of words.

Poppy herself, was caught giggling, even as she fought to keep her face neutral. Branch had heard her laugh millions of times in all the years he had known her. However, knowing he was the cause of that laugh, filled him with an odd sense of pride that he only experienced once in a blue moon.

And she just kept walking faster. Who knew such little stumpy legs could move so fast? Must have been all the years she spent dancing.

Finally she took off in a sprint as Branch was describing, in great detail, the infamous Chocolate Iced Meatloaf and after taking a moment to gape, he was on her tail.

They raced through the city, dodging Bergens, ignoring outraged cries, Branch fueled by a combination of Poppy's giggles and his own spite.

He didn't actually catch up with her until she stopped at the entrance to their apartment complex, face flushed, chest rising and falling with tight gasps, absolutely beaming as Branch approached.

"Finally!" He exclaimed, taking a moment to collect his breath before speaking again. "What the fuck was that? Why'd you run away?"

Poppy slipped her hands behind her back, aiming for a lofty tone but unable to keep her voice even. "No fun when someone won't slow down for you, is it?" Her words dripped with satisfaction. "But you tried so hard to keep up with me anyway, didn't you?"

Branch stared at her incredulously, all of his vocabulary suddenly missing.

This was clearly one of the best moments of Poppy's life. "First you walked pretty fast, then you jogged, then you were straight up running. All for me!" She smushed her palms against her ruby cheeks. "Even though you always act like you don't like me."

"Because." She poked his chest with her finger. "You." Poke. "Enjoy." Poke. "My Company."

Branch exhaled and scowled, lightly slapping her hand away. "Poppy, I swear to God-"

"What, Branch?! What? I'm right here, the person you chased all through the city to be around, how may I assist you?!" She was bouncing on the spot, her arms thrown out, giddiness radiating from her body.

"You have got to be the most annoying friend-"

"Friend?!" She shrieked.

"No!" He howled.

Passersby were beginning to stop and stare at these two strange young people, both strongly contrasting from their clothes to their hair to the emotion in the exclaims. The boy was sputtering unintelligible yet defiant denials while the girl hopped in place, squeaking in celebration. They were yelling over each other, frightening nearby pigeons. It was a funny sight.

"You said friend! I can't believe you actually-!"

"I did not! That's not-that's-that's not what I said! I said-"

"Let me have this! You said-I-I know you said-"

"I did not say!"

"You did!"

"What did I say?!"

"Friend!"

"No!"

They continued this roaring exchange for a couple more seconds, or maybe it was fifteen minutes, whatever made him feel more mature over the whole thing. The battle ended when Poppy sighed, relaxing her shoulders.

Branch actually thought he had another argument victory under his belt before she looked up at him and grinned. "Well, no matter what you say, I think you're my friend. One of my best friends too!"

_Well then, you got some shit taste in friends._

_Can you be any more of a sap? You're gonna make me puke._

_So, wanna get back to your terrible cooking skills?_

These were things he should have said, these were things that Branch, of all people, should say to keep the balance. But sometimes Branch fucked up, especially when Poppy was around. This time, Branch said nothing but gazed down at this goddamn pixie who was making things far too complex with her own simplicity. A friend, she says. Branch, a friend. God, she was annoying, he mused, surprised at the pang of fondness that accompanied the thought.

She must have noticed his expression soften as her grin grew wider, popping dimples on her cheeks and distorting the surface of cinnamon freckles and face glitter. Clumps of shocking pink hair had come undone and clung plastered to the sides of her face. He was almost tempted to clear the strands away if he didn't have such a respect for whatever touches Mother Nature added to her. Cinematic eyes studied every movement of his expression, lips painted in cherry gloss wobbled, seemingly uncertain on what to say.

_It would probably be a good idea to kiss her._

Yeah, it probably would.

_"And I see your truuuue coloooors, shining through!"_

Poppy jumped and scrabbled around in her pockets to find her phone. Tugging the damn singing device out of her jeans, her eyes widened at the name. "Branch, it's Creek! It's Creek!" She squeaked. "You go on inside, I'll catch up."

Branch obeyed, stiff strides with a blank stare, like his body was on auto pilot. While his insides burned with disgust for that fucking phone and the fucking guy on the other end, the tiniest voice in his mind was relieved. He had been about to do something very, very stupid. That phone saved his skin. Just the phone itself though, not Creek. Creek had never done Branch a favor in his life.

He unlocked their flat and stepped inside. For a moment, he stood in the tiny hallway, staring across the room at those tacky cushions that Poppy loved so much. He concluded that it was time for Branch's regularly scheduled quiet time.

* * *

 

Poppy tried knocking several times that night, asking if he wanted dinner at all, wondering if she had somehow made him mad, sliding apology notes and doodles under the door. Branch didn't answer any of it, pacing his small block of a bedroom, thoughts buzzing and heart hammering. Sometimes he found himself with just a little too much to think about than he was capable of and usually, he poured them out into some sort of shitty poem.

His legs spread across the wooden floor, his office chair sliding back and and forth as he opened up a Word Document. Adrenaline mixed with self pity was a strange emotion and it was Hell to suffer through. With two fingers tapping against the keyboard, he somehow transformed his less than riveting inner monologue of _Poppy, Poppy, Poppy, Poppy, oh my God, Poppy_ into something far more eloquent and abstract.

That contest paper was still there, he noticed. Laying flat on his desk, a victim to Poppy's manhandling, its utter drabness glaring at him.

_This is what you get from locking yourself in your room all day. You start thinking stupid ideas are good ones._

Well, time for a stupid idea. He seized the sheet and held it up to the light. With fingers daring to be wild, he typed in the entry website. It asked for his name. Branch smirked, prints dancing across the keyboard.

_F.B Blue._

Close enough. He entered his poem with a click of a mouse. Huh, pretty anticlimactic.

From the other side of his wall, he heard someone bustling around, slapping textbooks down on her desk, tugging out the drawer from her dresser all while singing Ella Fitzgerald's _'Dream A Little Dream Of Me.'_

There was a sudden groan of bed springs and he heard her mumble "So special."

Was she seriously talking to her photographs again?

"Goodnight, Cooper."

Theory confirmed.

"Goodnight, Smidge, goodnight, Fuzzbert, goodnight Satin, goodnight, Chenille."

She just met up with all of these people yesterday. Why?

"Goodnight, Biggie, goodnight DJ, goodnight, Guy Diamond."

There was a pause. Had she finished? Thank God.

"Goodnight, Creek....boop." He heard a soft giggle.

"And goodnight, Poppy!" Without so much as a second thought, he smashed his fist against the wall, rattling his corkboard and all the paintings hanging on the other side.

There was an indignant huff and then silence.

With far more difficulty than expected, Branch pulled himself out of his chair and collapsed on the bed.

_Goodnight, Branch. Good fucking luck sleeping tonight._


	4. Chapter 4

"Branch!" Poppy repeatedly kicked at their door until her toes throbbed, arms heavy with a stack of library books. In hindsight, she probably should have brought her backpack. "My hands are full, lemme in!"

Time ticked away with no sounds of movement muffling from the other side. Poppy groaned irritably, lowering the books to the floor and rummaging around in her purse for her keys.

Branch must have left for work early and now, neighbors probably thought of her as the crazy lady who yells at her imaginary friends. Preposterous, really. Poppy would never mistreat her imaginary friends, she had always been nothing but loving towards them. She hoped the neighbors wouldn't get the wrong idea because of this.

After she had gotten the door open, she swooped up her overflowing pile and stepped inside, only to be greeted by a tuft of familiar raven hair protruding from the back of the lime green couch.

"Are you kidding me?!" Poppy marched across the living room to face the lazy oaf. She slammed her books down on the coffee table, disturbing the surface of scrapbooking glitter that rose in a cloud and sprinkled the snowy carpet.

Branch was lying comfortably, head propped up against the armrest, a magazine splayed over his stomach. He wore a composed expression that bordered on an amused smirk. "Hi."

She placed her hands on her hips, attempting a glare but failing miserably. "Are you just trying to be difficult? Is that what this is?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her ruffled reaction. "What? No, I just didn't feel like getting up."

Poppy watched with a slack jaw as Branch pulled the magazine up over his nose, signaling that he was through with conversation.

"Okay!" She announced, throwing her hands to the high heavens and striding across the room. "You brought this on yourself, Guitar Time!"

"No Guitar Time!" She heard him call.

Poppy was already emerging from her bedroom, the bright yellow instrument settled against her chest, fingers gliding dangerously over the strings. "Guitar Time!"

"No."

_Struuuum_

"Poppy, I swear to God..." Branch was hoisting himself up by the elbows and scraping a hand over his wrinkled forehead.

She had begun strumming, happily bouncing her shoulders as an appropriately cheesy grin stretched across her face. _"Lookin' up at a sunny sky, so shiny and blue and there's a butterfly! Well, isn't that a super fantastic sign-?"_

"Poppy...." Branch warned as he slowly picked up one of her work in progress scrapbooks and held it out at arm's length. "I will burn this. Try me."

 _"It's gonna be a fantastic day..."_ She continued cautiously, her voice wavering and her gaze never breaking from his.

_That twat._

"Poppy."

"Okay, okay, fine!" She pouted, plopping herself on the couch with a defeated huff before making grabby hands for her precious craft. "Gimme!"

Branch released the book with a smirk and sat down beside her, dusting off his magazine. "Your own fault for leaving this crap all over the floor. You better clean it up later."

"I can't help it. We artists have a rather unorganized and chaotic lifestyle. It's something you could never possibly understand."

"Yeah, yeah I'll bet.." He murmured absentmindedly.

Poppy glanced down at his reading material. "Is that the magazine the college has been publishing."

"Yup."

"Did they announce the winner of that poetry contest?"

"Like three weeks ago."

"And do you regret not entering?"

Branch responded in a delayed scoff but confirmed that he didn't give a flying fuck about a stupid magazine contest. According to him, he wasn't a poet to begin with. Poppy disagreed. Sure, Branch hadn't shown any sign of writing poetry in twelve years but Poppy was an optimist and liked to believe he still had it in him.

"Sooo who did win?" She inquired, reclining back into the couch.

Strangely enough, Branch shifted in his seat and took a moment to clear his throat before he answered. "How should I know? You think I got any friends who would enter this thing?"

"Fair enough, buddy but lemme see." She plucked the magazine from Branch's fingers and flicked through until she reached the poetry corner. "I wanna know if this new writer's worth a once a week subscription."

Branch said nothing.

"F.B Blue, huh?" Poppy read aloud. "Is that their actual name?"

"Obviously not, Genius. Just hurry up and read the stupid thing, I want it back." Branch had sunk into the cushions, arms knotted tightly, gaze fixated on his lap. Maybe he did regret not submitting an entry. He certainly seemed pretty stiff about the whole thing.

Poppy did as she was told and read through the poem. "Wow" was really all she could manage as a soft sound through her lips. "Poor F.B Blue." She whimpered.

Branch gaped at her. "What d'ya mean 'Poor F.B Blue'?! The dude just got himself a job for a magazine!"

"But they love somebody, Branch!" Hands still worrying the page, she shook at his shoulder vigorously. "They love somebody sooo much and she has no idea!"

"W-where does it say that?!" Branch swiped the magazine from her grip and scanned the glossy page anxiously. "It-it doesn't-it doesn't say that anywhere. It's just a-just a stupid generic love poem. I bet this guy doesn't even have someone he loves, just pulled this stuff out of his ass so he could keep his job."

Poppy exhaled lowly. "Everyone back home thinks you're really smart but you can be really dumb."

"How the Hell am I dumb?!"

"This poem." She jabbed the paper with her forefinger. "There's feelings in it. There's a whole looootta feelings. I can tell. You gotta read between the lines. Now, if you wanna be all cynical and think F.B is just doing this for the money, go ahead but this person is really sad and you probably shouldn't disrespect their emotions like that."

Branch stared at her, astonished. After a few seconds of tense silence, he slapped his palms against his knees and rose. "You know-you know what, I'm done, fuck you. Going to work, see ya tomorrow."

"Branch, come on!"

"Nah, nah. Later, Poppy."

"You don't have work for another hour!"

"Yeah and apparently I can't even relax in my own goddamn house. Guess I'm just not meant to relax, this is just my life."

Cheek resting in her palm, Poppy watched Branch shove his few belongings into his backpack as he prepared for another nightmarish shift at Captain Starfunkles Roller Rink and Arcade.

He often recounted his days to her, going into great detail of the hordes of screeching children in bright garish clothing, horrifically brutal roller skating accidents and an ear gratingly annoying pizza themed jingle that blared through the stereos at all times. Suffice to say, Branch did not enjoy his job.

"You're acting more emo than usual today." Poppy noted, already reaching across the couch to retrieve her guitar.

"Shut up."

_Struuuum_

"No."

 _"Hello Darkness, my old friend."_ She sang, kicking her legs up over the cushions and leaning her head back in sweet tranquility. _"I've come to talk with you again."_

"Oh, for the love of God!" Branch exploded, throwing his hands in the air and dropping his backpack in the process. There goes the tranquility. "This is like the tenth time you've sang that song this week!"

"Hey, it suits you! I'm narrating your life through song."

"Well, could you possibly pick a new song?"

Poppy popped up, grinning from behind the couch, steadying her guitar. "Well, I mean, if you're asking-"

"I'm not asking, forget I said that."

_"And I see your true colors shining through, I see your true colors and that's why-"_

"Cyndi Lauper?" Branch deadpanned. "Seriously?"

Poppy came to an abrupt halt. "Excuse me? What is wrong with Cyndi Lauper?"

"Uh not much. It's just that song of hers, it's pretty terrible."

"This happens to be my favorite song of all time! What kind of heartless person doesn't like _'True Colors'_?"

Branch jutted both thumbs at his chest with a click of his tongue. "This guy."

Poppy scoffed, offended and folded her arms over her chest. "Like you could do any better."

"Probably could. Wouldn't be hard." Branch was already swinging his backpack over his shoulder and grabbing his Captain StarFunkle cap from the hall table. He usually didn't don that stupid cap until his very last minute in the apartment as Poppy spent his remaining time, making fun of how silly he looked.

"Okay, let's hear it then." Branch responded by slamming their door shut, leaving Poppy alone with her guitar and scrapbook supplies to clean up. Typical.

Her phone picked the perfect moment to chime. She read her latest text from Chenille and wriggled in excitement before shooting up to find her purse and give herself a once over in the mirror. With a hurrying fingers, she touched up her make-up and fastened her homemade flower headband over her ponytail. Poppy had to look her best. She was going to see Creek after all.

* * *

 

'The Happy Tree' had become something of a popular meet up place since the semester started. When they had grown frustrated with the perpetual misery that the city was known for, Poppy and the Snack Pack had adopted the cute little coffee shop as their own. Ever since the Trolls became regulars, the atmosphere had warmed with their energy and they were pleased to see the Bergens' usual scowls dissolve as they set foot in the shop for their morning espresso.

Poppy felt the joy as she entered although that could have been the ring of friendly voices all welcoming her arrival. She beamed, settling down at their usual table as Biggie threw a burly arm around her and Smidge pushed a caramel frappuccino her way. "Aww, who bought it? I can pay you back just-"

"Put that money away, Poppy and let yourself be treated for once." Creek teased from across the table. He sat with an arm slung over the chair, his knees knotted under his seat and wearing that comfortable smile that he had become known for. Creek had that uncanny ability to feel perfectly at home no matter where he was. He was so composed, so refined. It was admirable, really.

Poppy sipped her drink. "Thank you, Creek." she simpered. "But I'll be sure to pay you back at some point, I wont forget. Now, how's the party planning been going, guys?"

"Smoother than we thought." Said Satin, opening up a silver binder.

"And looks like we're mostly done." Added Chenille as she glanced down at her sister's checklist. "We just need to set up the food and the caterers don't arrive until later. Oh, and Suki needs to throw together a playlist."

"Pssh, I can do that in like an hour." Suki shrugged, twiddling the cord of her headphones.

"How'd the decorating go?"

"The hall looks absolutely dazzling." Guy Diamond proclaimed proudly. "You'll be blown away when you see it."

"Good job. Wouldn't expect anything less." Poppy smiled. It was a good thing she was friends with the best party planners in Troll Town. Now, they could devote their talents to making Bergen Town a happier place.

"And all the invitations have been delivered?"

Cooper nodded. "All over town, you should'a seen the look on these Bergens' faces. Like they never got a party invitation before."

"Sad to think but they probably haven't." Biggie commented. "They don't seem like the type to ever have parties. This must all be very exciting for them."

"I'll bet." Poppy took another swig of her coffee. "Now, all I have left to do is try and convince Branch to come and we should be all good."

Unsurprisingly, she was met by a chorus of "What?" and looked up to see her friends staring at her. "Yeah, I'm gonna invite Branch. So what, guys?"

"The party pooper?"

"He's not that bad, Cooper."

"Poppy." said Biggie patiently. "With all due respect to Branch, he...well he..." "

"He always ruins everything." supplied Chenille.

"Always warning us about one thing or another." Satin continued.

Smidge took a moment to imitate Branch's panicked instructions. "Clear the area!"

"Check for potential tripping hazards!" Guy Diamond laughed.

"Establish a perimeter and open path for non dancing people to pass." Suki chimed in.

Cooper completed the charade with a bang by booming "DO WE HAVE ENOUGH LIQUID IN THE AREA FOR HYDRATIOOOON!!"

The whole group dissolved into uproarious laughter, except Creek who passively hushed them. "Now, now. We shouldn't be making fun of Branch like this. He does have the best intention, bloke just wants to make sure we're safe, is all."

Poppy gazed at him gratefully. Creek was just so great. "Yeah and he deserves to have fun just as much as we do. Also, aren't we throwing this party for the Bergens in the first place? To make them happy?"

"Because the Bergens actually want to be happy." Biggie pointed out.

"Yeeeeah." Suki drawled. "I mean, Branch has said no to every single one of your invitations since we were kids."

"He used to say yes." Satin and Chenille said in unison.

"Yeah before Rosiepuff died." Poppy mumbled, allowing the cheery mood to evaporate momentarily.

Rosiepuff was not the type of woman any child would forget. She treated every single one of them like her own grandchildren. She knitted them cute little hats, she taught them how to bake cookies, she was a really sweet lady. They loved her. But for Branch, the boy she raised since he was an infant, it was even more of a blow. Most of the Snack Pack didn't talk to Branch much these days because of his snarky attitude but they sympathized with him nonetheless.

"What if..." All heads turned to Creek who was staring at nothing, looking contemplative. "What if we all go with Poppy to invite Branch." His smile widened. "Would it not be a lot more persuasive if he could see just how many people want him to go?"

There was a murmur of agreement although Poppy was uncertain. "He's..he's not too big a fan of too many people in our apartment."

"Poppy." Creek said sweetly, leaning across the table to boop her nose. Her expression softened. "I know how many times you've tried to invite him to parties, I've seen all of those...excellently crafted invitations, may I just say all of them were lovely? Just-just beautiful, really. But I've also seen what he does to them. He stomps on them, tears them in half, threatens to burn them. It's just not fair to someone like you who works so hard to make other people happy. Whether you're alone or there's other people around, Branch has responded the same. But if you want so badly to make him happy, then you should get to do so at least once. I say the best course of action is just to show him all the support he has. Show him all the friends he has, whether he wants them or not. Bound to warm something in his icy heart. What d'ya say?"

"Well," Poppy considered. "Alright, we'll go over in a couple hours once he's finished his shift. Maybe it'll work this time."

* * *

 

Poppy unlocked the door and with a finger pressed to her lips, herded the group inside. Creek had advised them to stay silent as Branch probably wouldn't leave his room if he knew the Snack Pack were hanging around in his apartment.

She approached his door and knocked gently. "Branch?"

A snort could be heard from the other side. "What, just a knock? No stupid pop tune?"

Poppy giggled. "I mean, if you insist."

_Knock knock knock knock. "Everybody, move your hair and feel united, ohh."_

"Changed my mind, don't do that."

"Fair enough." Poppy pulled the brightly colored, glitter adorned invitation out from her purse and it crinkled slightly between her fingers. It had the pop up book style. She had observed that Branch seemed fond of the pop book invites. Well, he still denied them he just usually didn't step on them. "Hey...hey, Branch."

"Yeah?"

"There just so happens to be a party tonight." She said in a sing song voice.

"Cool. Have fun."

"Braaanch." Poppy groaned. "You know what I'm asking here."

"Not going."

"What if I promised you'll have fun?"

There was a disbelieving scoff. "Fun? Yeah right."

"Yes, fun! 'Cause you'll be with me, your best friend in the world!" Poppy glanced back. The Snack Pack were staring, looking oddly fascinated.

"Debatable."

_Well, that was better than an outright rejection._

"And I'll make sure you have at least a little fun, I promise, we can hang out the whole night!"

"The...the whole night?"

_Well holy chicken nuggets, he actually sounds the tiniest bit interested._

"Yeah, the whole night! C'mon, bud, we can bond. Y'know, bond like housemates are supposed to. Now, will you come out so I can give you your invitation."

The door handle jiggled.

From behind, she heard the Snack Pack gasp quietly. Several members present, Poppy included, did not expect this to work.

Branch revealed himself from behind the door and his soft expression hardened instantly as his gaze snapped to the Snack Pack. "What are they doing in our flat?" He asked, teeth gritted.

"Branch, we're just here to show our support." Creek broke free of the group and loomed over to Poppy's side. She watched, unblinking as his arm moved fluidly and snaked around her waist. Branch had caught the moment too and was staring at the touch. Intently.

Creek continued. "I think it'd be good for you to get out for a while and...not that your current personality isn't _charming..._ "

The Snack Pack snickered. Branch tensed, his fidgeting hands curling into fists.

"...but maybe try and be a bit more social eh? Try a little positivity. What ya think?" He gently bumped his hip against hers. "You going to give him that invitation, Poppy?"

"Oh, oh right, right. Branch." She cleared her throat and held the invitation out before her surly housemate. "You are formally invited to the Dance Party in the Bergen Town Hall."

"Where you can spend the night with all your friends here." said Creek, gesturing to the Snack Pack. "We'd all be delighted to...hear all your opinions.... _again._ "

Another snicker.

To be honest, Poppy was puzzled as to what happened next. Branch and Creek just seemed to have a very long, very intense staring contest. A fuming glare up against an easy smile. Apparently, Creek won as Branch was the first to break eye contact. His eyes shot up to meet hers and she nearly jumped. He forcefully ripped the invitation from her grip and ground it beneath his foot.

He had done this before. He had crushed several of her invitations before and those times, Poppy had found it in her to let it go. But Branch did always have the strange ability to tamper with the current aura. She could never understand how he did it, as his prickly mood so rarely changed but whenever he was truly angry, you could feel it. Everyone present could feel it.

Branch ground out his words through gritted teeth. "I'm only going to say this once. I hate every single one of you. You're truly the most annoying, noisy, dim-witted group of people I have ever been unfortunate enough to meet."

Well, that stung. Every smile in the room faded, even Creek's.

"And Poppy..."

For once, she was the one avoiding eye contact. Eventually she looked up as the silence that over them was suffocating yet she couldn't bring herself to break it. The lump in her throat wouldn't allow her to speak. The two housemates locked eyes.

"If you want to rot away your brain cells by partying every night, be my guest. If you want to throw away your college education that way, go ahead. It's not like you were learning anything anyway. But please, for the love of God, stop giving me these invitations. I don't want them, I don't need them and I don't need you constantly pestering me to come to your parties. Good. Night."

Poppy barely caught the remorse that flashed over his features as there was suddenly a door slamming shut in her face. But even if she imagined that expression, she knew he felt it. Because Branch could be a dick, but he acted like a dick while hating himself throughout the entire process. That was the way Branch was.

"That's..that's the way Branch.." However that didn't stop her from crying. Poppy's face crumbled as she released a shaking sob. The Snack Pack flocked around her instantly, hugging like a family of meerkats.

"Poppy, Poppy..." She heard Creek's soothing lilt of a voice as he carefully settled an arm over her shoulders. "Now, I want you to tune out his negative vibrations. They're toxic, Poppy. You're better off being happy tonight, alright?"

She managed a watery gulp. "Yeah..." Swiping at her eyes, she tried to regain her composure. "Yeah, yeah. I know. You're-" Another deep breath. "You're right. We're gonna have fun tonight, right, guys?"

There was a murmur of reassuring words, all of them an effort to brighten her spirits.

The attempt to livening the atmosphere was stunted by a sudden bang against Branch's door. "If you assholes could just get the Hell out of my flat that would be great."

They complied. No one wanted to be in the same building as that guy anyway. Not even Poppy. Tonight, she wanted to be as far away from him as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

“I’m up, I’m-I’m...lemme…jus’…jus’ lemme me sleep, ‘kay?”

A pair of warm, soft hands had clasped hers and were attempting to yank her upwards. Once she had been propped into a standing position, Poppy felt her head spin and longed to collapse again. “Why was I on the ground?” She heard herself slur.

“You fell.” Came Creek’s patient reply. “Those heels have-“ He was cut off by Poppy clumsily throwing her arms around his neck, mumbling incoherently about how relieved she was that he was here.

“It’s dark out and I’m scared and I don’t- I-I-I dunno where I am. Where are we, Creek? I wanna go home, I wanna sleep, Creek. Can-can we-can go sleep?”

There was a gentle hush and she found herself being steered to the left, the sound of rushing water flooding her eardrums. “Where we now?”

“Bergen Town Bridge.” He carefully set her down on a nearby park bench, as if she were a porcelain doll. “Now, I’m sorry, darling but I’ll have to ask you to take off those shoes. You’ve had a lot to drink tonight and you’ve already fallen down twice.”

“Shoes? I-I, uh…shoes?” Poppy blinked rapidly, unable to comprehend whatever Creek was talking about but enjoying the sound of his melodic voice regardless.

Creek gave up. “Alright.” He crouched down and Poppy sighed with pleasure as the tight straps, cutting into the flesh of her ankles, were unbuckled and the heels yanked off her feet. The chill of concrete beneath her was then soothed by a rumpled rubber surface.

“Wuz that?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want your feet to get cold.” Creek chuckled, rising and dropping down beside her.

Poppy gazed down with aching eyes at fuchsia painted, glittering toes that wriggled comfortably in a pair of purple flip flops. “But now…now you got no shoes…”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I walked around barefoot.” He shrugged, his charming smile still gleaming in the weak light of street lamps. “Poppy…?”

“Mmmm?” She hummed, her head lolling against his shoulder, zoning in and out of consciousness.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. That cowbell of yours. Do you still have it? Or have you given it away?”

“Wha’? Oh, nooo…noo. Gotta keep on to it. Gotta give it to the love ‘a my life. When the time’s right. Gotta keep it for then.”

“Thank God. And do you have anyone in mind to give it to?” He asked, polishing his fingernails with an air of indifference.

“Well, yeah, silly…” Poppy giggled and bashed their shoulders together. She heard him wince quietly. “Imma give it to you…Imma have to wait though. Gotta wait to make sure…”

“Make sure?”

“Make sure you’re the love a’ my life. Tha’s real important, dad says so.”

“Right.” Creek replied softly. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t take too long for you to decide.”

“Decide wha-“ Whatever muddled train of thought that she had on track, was derailed immediately by a pair of lips colliding against her own.

Poppy was no stranger to kisses. A string of constant parties fueled by the intoxication of drinks and music, often led to rather intimate experiences. However, whatever she shared with those guys and girls of the past, was merely the heat of the moment. But Creek was different. Poppy and Creek had a solid foundation. Years of friendship from children playing hopscotch on the playground to college students kissing by Bergen Town Bridge.

He kissed forcefully although clearly uncertain of the proper procedure and even in her drunken haze, she found herself wondering if he was new to this. Creek had never been in any previous relationships, that she knew of. Well, that was fine. Poppy would show him anything he needed to know.

“Does my breath stink a’ vodka?” She whispered, their lips bumping together.

“No..”

Her weary chuckle evolved into a yawn as her body melted into his chest. “You’re a liar.”

“You have no idea.”

* * *

 

The sound of Poppy’s voice, distorted through the phone’s receiver had always been a cause of annoyance for Branch. He couldn’t count the number of times he had groaned upon picking up his ringing cell, proclaiming her name across the screen. However, at nearing three o’ clock in the morning after forty seven missed calls, there was no way in Hell he was getting any sleep until he heard the reassuring words from her alone, that she was alive and well.

His hair stood up at odd angles through persistent raking, his short uneven fingernails the result of anxious gnawing. He had been pacing their hallway for the last two hours and his calves had long since began protesting.

Something thudded against the door and Branch almost tripped over his own feet in an effort to tear across the hallway. He almost ripped the door off its hinges and gave a strangled shout at the sight before him.

“She’s just sleeping, calm down!” Creek hissed, holding the limp girl bridal style.

Branch released a low exhale, a normal pace of his heartbeat returning to him. “Why was she out so late?” He asked, trying and failing to keep the goddamn asshole from worming his way into their apartment. “Just give her to me, I’ll take her.”

“Nah, nah, won’t have it.” Creek said airily as he elbowed open Poppy’s bedroom door. “She and I have this bond and I….well, I suppose I have this instinct to take care of her, y’know? Dunno if it’s something you’d really understand…”

_Please get the fuck out of our home._

“Not really that difficult to understand.” Branch uttered, leaning against her door frame and watching as Creek lowered her on the bed. With steely eyes, he followed the movement of Creek’s fingertips, one hand around Poppy waist, the other sliding out from under her thigh. The little voice in his head moaned with guilt, the mere sight felt like he was allowing her to be poisoned. But that was a stupid notion. Because despite Branch’s less than sparkling opinion of him, Creek had never hurt Poppy in all the years he had known her. Branch had. And maybe, for once in his life, Branch needed to get his head out of his ass and be a mature adult about this. “Thanks for bringing her home safe. She’s really…she really is lucky to have you.”

Creek turned to face him, wearing that subdued smile that never failed to creep him the fuck out. “Thank you. I do try my best to be there for her. Like tonight for example.”

“Oh yeah?” Branch quirked an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. “And what happened tonight? You protect her against some assholes?”

“To be perfectly honest, mate, the only asshole I protected her against, was you.”

Branch paled, his flared up reaction to the invitation earlier today, suddenly dawning on him for the first time in hours.

“At first, Poppy wasn’t in the mood to have fun at all. You even made her cry, y’know. She spent a good while just moping about the whole thing. This friendship she has with you, it brings her down quite a bit. Have you ever really noticed how she reacts when you reject one of her invitations?”

“Y-yeah, I mean. She gets over it. She’s a little bummed out at first but like, she’s Poppy. She can’t stay sad for too long, that’s just not how she is.” Branch’s past conversations with Creek had always been curt and rather one sided. But now, now he was just blabbering. “She doesn’t care that much about me. She’s got a whole ton of friends to go to parties with! what does it matter if there’s this one asshole who just-“

“Branch.” Creek looked sympathetic but stern. “If you think that your rejections don’t affect Poppy, then you clearly don’t know her at all. She has to be one of the happiest young ladies I have ever met. Cheerful, clever, exuberant. But in those rare moments where she’s just totally dejected, it’s always because of something you said to her. Always. I’ve seen it, y’know. I’ve seen the light just fade from her eyes every time you say something scathing. It hurts her. _You_ hurt her.”

The words hung in the air, their imprint evident.

“I know.” Branch said weakly after a prolonged period of silence. “I know I hurt her, alright? I know I’ve made her cry. No one on this fucking planet-!

Creek shushed him, gesturing wildly to the sleeping Poppy, peaceful and oblivious to the growing tension between the two boys.

He dropped to a whisper. “No one knows that better than me. I’m just a dick, I shouldn’t be around her. Half the time I want her to leave me alone, just so she doesn’t have to put up with me. Is that what you want to fucking hear?”

Creek raised his nose, slightly ruffled by the rather antagonistically toned question. “She puts up with you because she’s encouraged by the five percent of the time when you’re not totally insensitive. If you must know, she thinks there’s some hidden heart of gold inside you that only she can bring out.”

Branch snorted humorlessly. “What a load of shit.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Creek nodded. “But the point still stands. Whatever kind of friendship she’s hoping to get from you, is pretty much impossible with your attitude. With you, she’s starved for any sort of positivity. But listen….” Branch only now noticed that Creek had Poppy’s rhinestone handbag tucked under his arm. He removed a pair of high heeled shoes and plopped them down on the carpet. “Tonight when she was crying, I managed to get her back to her usual self. I made her smile, made her laugh, got her to dance again. We had a fairly good night.”

“Is that why you were out so late?” Branch muttered.

“Sorry about scaring you like that, mate.” Creek allowed a light hearted grin before his expression sobered again. “Now, I’m not trying to be some uncultured and territorial beast right now but…she’s happy when she’s with me, Branch. And I’m happy when I’m with her. And if you could just…” Creek trailed off and scrubbed the back of his neck with a sigh, internally wording his next statement. “If you could stop….” He continued with more vigor. “Stop pulling her along on this journey to figure out your own complex issues and lashing out at her every step of the way. I’ve been trying to keep her happy, Branch. And with you around, it’s been a real bumpy road.”

“So…” Branch spoke slowly, his monotonous voice in stark contrast to the intense ache in his chest. “So you want me to stop being her friend?”

Creek scoffed. “Now you call yourself her friend?”

Branch said nothing.

“But yeah. Now you’ve got it. I really am sorry to be saying all this, mate but I…” He glanced at Poppy. “I really do have her best intentions at heart. And with you, it’s just…it’s just…”

“I know, I know. My existence alone is enough to bring her down, I got it. I’m not gonna bother her anymore, okay?” With a twinge of frustration, he realized just how difficult that was to say. Maybe if he could stop being a selfish prick for five minutes, this would be a lot easier. “So, hey. It’s really late. Do you mind getting the fuck outta our place?”

“Umm..” Creek blinked, toying with the hem of his sleeve. “I mean, I was hoping, as my home is such a long walk from here, if it would be alright to maybe-?”

“Not happening. Clear out, Creek.”

“I see you’re not going to make any effort to improve your attitude, then?”

Branch shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, you’ve been a great help, really. But the fact is, I’m still an asshole and I still don’t like you. Get out.”

The smile Creek adopted was different from his usual ‘I look so serene and gorgeous but I’m really just thinking about the price of yoga mats’ grin and quite frankly, Branch felt uneasy at the sight. “If you insist, Branch.” With hands sliding into the pockets of those goddamn hideous yellow pants, Creek strode past him and down the hallway. “Sorry again for keeping her out so late. We actually were on the way home at least an hour ago although we got a bit….distracted.”

Branch trailed after Creek, struck with a craving to slam the door in his face. “Distracted, huh? You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and have a mini meltdown at the sight of your roots?”

“Wait-what now? My roots aren’t-are they…?” Creeks hands flew upward to pat down vivid turquoise locks over his forehead.

“I’m kidding, dumbass.”

Creek gaped before forcing out an airy laugh. “Ah, ah, ya got me. Now where was I…” His smile grew wider. “Oh, yeah. We were on our way home and just out of nowhere, she...well, she kissed me.”

Somehow, Branch doubted he kept his expression perfectly deadpan, judging by the flicker of amusement that crinkled Creek’s eyes. Jesus Christ, his face probably dropped like an underfed puppy. Pathetic. “She, uh, she kissed you.”

“She did. Don’t even know what came over her. I was just helping her get home and suddenly bam..” Creek slapped his hands together with a startling _whap_. “Totally unexpected.” He took a moment to study Branch’s face and appearing satisfied with himself, turned on his heel and swung the door open. “Also, be sure to keep the noise down tomorrow morning. Poppy’s had a lot to drink.” With that, he was gone.

Branch didn’t get his chance to slam the door. Although right now, with the image of a kiss between two certain people, both of which he had very different opinions towards, he found himself with no energy left to be angry.

While his body, heart and soul were all groaning for sleep, his feet roamed past his door and wandered into Poppy’s room, his mind heavy.

Her walls were a spectacle, to say the least. Framed paintings she bought at street side fairs, art prints from various conventions, posters, drawings, photographs, good God, she had a lot of photographs. Images of animals, selfies, her friends’ smiling faces, even old weather worn pictures from their Troll Town Elementary days. Branch caught his own five year old grin every now and again, as he turned on the spot to take in all four elaborately decorated walls.

Her dresser and desk were overflowing with scrapbooking supplies, homework, stacks of books, various knick knacks and plush toys. Clothes that weren’t spilling out of open drawers were tossed haphazardly over the chair and the foot of her bed. Branch almost chuckled. While the two of them were about as opposite as two people could get, both seemed to have a distinct problem with keeping their bedrooms tidy.

Standing on his toes, he stepped across the room to get a good glance at her before he finally committed to his new Poppy-free lifestyle.

She lay sprawled on the bed, snoring lightly, lips parted and make-up noticeably smudged. Poppy had mentioned once that one must always wash off all make-up before bed. It came up in conversation, regarding a teenage Branch’s terrible acne. At the time, it had been useless information as he merely countered that anything concerning mascara wasn’t really his problem. Now, it was plucking at his thoughts as his gaze snapped between her caked face and the packet of wipes on her dresser. Nah. He’d let her sleep. She had a lot to drink after all.

_Oh, fuck._

Branch snapped into action, his memory flying to the recent news story of the drunken Bergen Town girl who choked on her own vomit. With a little more panicked force than necessary, he pushed Poppy on to her side, spreading her arms out before her.

She stirred, moaning. “Wuhwhuu…Creek?” Poppy mumbled.

“Not quite.”

“Branch? Branch?!” Poppy shook her head in an attempt to gain a clearer mindset and pulling herself up into a sitting position, threw an arm around his shoulder. “Branch…Branch…hi, Branch. Where’ve you been, it’s been real-“ Her hand snapped over her mouth. “Oh, God.” She groaned, tumbling out from the bed and dashing out into the bathroom, almost slamming into a door in the process.

Branch hurried after her, suddenly very unnerved by the idea of a drunk and unsupervised Poppy. He was behind her in an instant, scraping back her hair that hung loose, just as she was about to wretch over the toilet. “Done?” He asked after several seconds of throaty whines had finally finished humming out from the ceramic toilet bowl.

“Mmm..” Poppy grunted. “Imma…Imma go bed now…”

“Nope, nope.” Branch took hold of the girl’s forearms as she turned for her bedroom. “Let’s just get some things done first, okay?”

He led her into the kitchen and after sitting her up on a stool, set a pint of water on the counter in front of her. “I just need you to drink that and you can go back to sleep. You got that?”

She nodded, taking a swig as Branch pulled out a wipe from the packet he had swiped from her room. “Now, just let me get all this stuff off your face. Don’t want your skin to flare up after all.” He mumbled, scrubbing along her cheeks and forehead.

Poppy had gone silent, the only sound being the occasional gulp of water. He knew she was exhausted but he couldn’t ignore the prodding thought that she may have regained some recollection of earlier today.

The reliable analog clock over their fridge, ticked away the seconds, the aggravating sound bouncing around the tiled room and after a very, _very_ long ten ticks, Branch, dragging the wipe over her brow, uttered. “I’m sorry.”

Poppy squinted incredulously at him, their faces just inches apart. “Why you sorry?”

“I was a dick to you today, dunno if you remember but I was.”

“Oh.” Said Poppy softly. “Ohhh…”

Branch smirked. “Yeah. Oh. But I’m sorry. Nothing like that will ever happen again, I promise. Close your eyes.”

She obeyed as he cleared the wine coloured shadows from her eyelids.

“I forgive you.” She said quietly.

_Of course you do. You forgive too easily._

“Thanks, you ready to go back to bed?”

“Yeah…”

Branch yelped in surprise as Poppy came crashing down from the stool, arms swinging around his neck. She released a bubbling giggle. “Stop making weird noises and bring me to bed.”

He complied, silent as he lugged the wobbling girl across the apartment, careful not to let her run into any more doors.

“I think me n’ Creek kissed.” She murmured sleepily.

“You did.”

“Think he’s okay with it?”

“Pretty sure he enjoyed it.”

“Think I should kiss him again?”

There was a sigh, tired in more ways than one. “I think you should do whatever makes you happy.”

“Okay..” She breathed as Branch lowered her down on the bed. He turned her to the side and tucked the chubby bird patterned quilt over her shoulders.

With a weary mind, he recalled a stupid memory. He’d been fifteen and had been in English class. He learned the term ‘Infatuation’ and desperately clung to its meaning for years. An intense but short-lived passion or admiration. For the grumpy teenage boy, it had been a way of coping with whatever confusing feelings he had been developing for the recently dyed pink haired girl. He poured all of his remaining optimism into hoping that whatever he felt would go away soon.

Here that boy was, standing in her bedroom at four AM, noting the bridge of splotchy freckles across her nose, the trail of pimples along her forehead and the dark brown roots that poked out from beneath the frazzled pink mane. Poppy’s entire essence felt a lot less surreal after taking away the glittery make-up and 100-kilowatt smile. For the first time in years, Branch regained hope that maybe the whole infatuation theory wasn’t as unlikely as he thought.

“Goodnight, Poppy.”

She shifted slightly at the sound of her name but relaxed as her lips carved a tired little smile. “G’night, Branch…” She managed through a yawn.

His heart stopped momentarily.

_Fuck. Nevermind. The infatuation theory is bullshit._

Branch left the room without another word, wondering just how difficult it was going to be to completely cut off a girl he held a little more than infatuation for.


	6. Chapter 6

Every wild Saturday night was accompanied by a less than stellar Sunday morning. They went hand in hand, twins as inseperable as Satin and Chenille. Although Poppy had always claimed to be a ‘Party Whenever Pigeon’ and sincerely appreciated the soft amber dawn and chirping birds, her pounding skull and general discomfort always prevented her from properly enjoying what Sunday mornings had to offer.

“Gahhh…” She groaned, emerging from the bathroom and scraping back her tangled bangs and scratching the red raw marks that had been etched into the skin of her waist. Poppy loved to dress up, she loved party nights but the tight skirts and sequined tops always left her feeling itchy and uncomfortable if she kept them on too long. Falling asleep wearing them certainly hadn’t helped.

And now, with a throbbing head and feeling extremely queasy, she would have to throw together some sort of breakfast so she didn’t faint.

Or not.

Poppy halted in kitchen door frame, astonished. Sitting untouched on the counter was a full pitcher of coffee, a plate of homemade pancakes, doused in syrup and sprinkled in gummy bears and a bottle of aspirin. A flabbergasted laugh escaped her. Branch was sweet. Branch may never outwardly act like it but he was sweet.

_Now, just where the heck is that nerd?_

She wasted no time in devouring her personalized breakfast, all while wondering why she couldn’t hear the rhythmic ambience of Branch’s revolving chair zipping back and forth on wooden floors. He spent a lot of time in his room, either studying, listing out emergency apocalypse plans, fueling his paranoia with conspiracy theory videos or playing video games. Yes, weirdly enough Branch was a video game fan, as she found out about three weeks ago. Something about relieving stress.

“You mean the stress that you bring on yourself?” She had asked innocently.

“That and the stress you cause me.” He had responded, hands clasped around a controller, his gaze never leaving the screen. The discussion had been short lived.

While he often boasted about his secluded lifestyle, Branch was unintentionally loud. As a result, it didn’t take a detective to deduce that the quiet bedroom was vacant. He definitely had to work his Sunday shift in about two hours although his current location, was beyond her.

_“And I see your truuuuue coloooors-!”_

Poppy answered her phone immediately, ready for an explanation from her absent housemate. “Good morning, Sunshine!” She greeted, tone cheerful despite the slight morning croak.

“Morning, Poppy, how’s the head feeling?” Asked the familiar lilt of smooth British accent.

“O-oh, Creek, hi there! I thought you were Branch but hey….I guess you’re not. Head’s fine. Hurts just a little but-but y’know otherwise…”

_Alright, what is the intended direction of this sentence?_

A breezy laugh. “Glad to hear that. I was worried you wouldn’t even pick up the phone. You know how most people are with hangovers.”

_I may be in agony but what kind of monster ignores phone calls? Friends need attention!_

“Haha, I can handle a little headache, Creek. Last night was worth it after all.”

While the specifics were blurry, Poppy was certain the two of them had kissed. Her lips still tingled from the clumsy yet endearing exchange and the echo of tender whispers still tickled her earlobes. Whatever their moment entailed, it was undeniable that Creek and Poppy had destroyed their already crumbling barrier of platonicity.

“It certainly was. Now, I’m just calling up to ask if…if you’d be interested in meeting up with me later tonight? I’d like to…like to, maybe…”

“Talk?” She tried, curling a hand around her coffee mug to steady her giddily trembling fingers.

A relieved chuckle. ”Talk. That’s the word I’m looking for. Yes, talk. Well, I mean discuss, really. Just to…to discuss..”

“Us?”

“Our relationship, yes. God, you’re like a walking thesaurus.”

Poppy laughed to soothe her nerves, the euphoria of a kid on Christmas morning bubbling dangerously under a calm yet politely amused persona. “Just name the time and place, guru.”

* * *

 

 _'Chef’s'_.

The name was proclaimed over a marble arch inspired entrance, glowing golden letters written in intricate cursive against the pearly backdrop.

Poppy was debating whether or not this was stylish subtlety or whoever owned the restaurant was just really unoriginal with names.

“Oh my God. Chef’s. Just. Chef’s. Oh my God. Love it. Love the name, Trendy, right?” A passing Bergen drawled in her valley girl accent, to her less than enthusiastic companion.

_Huh. Trendy._

Sometimes, Poppy didn’t quite understand Bergens.

“Hope you haven’t been waiting long, darling.”

She turned to see Creek sauntering down the sidewalk to greet her, clad in a mulberry blazer and hands tucked into the pockets of pressed charcoal pants.

The first thought that crossed her mind was how Branch would feel about the object of his disgust switching out his usual yellow sweats. Maybe he would like Creek slightly more now?

Then, of course, her thoughts strayed to just how handsome the boy before her really was. Refined, poised, elegant, almost prince-like. What really struck her was just how charitable he was, taking the time out of his undoubtedly busy day to spend time with-

“Oh, shit!” Poppy blurted out, wincing as a designer clad middle aged couple snapped her distasteful looks as they strolled by.

Creek sniggered. “I never imagined I’d hear sweet as sugar Poppy use filthy words like that, what’s the matter?”

She gesticulated over her boot cut jeans and paint splotched style blouse. “I-I didn’t know we were goin’ somewhere super fancy, I didn’t know the dress code, I thought Chef’s was just some diner place! I’m super sorry but like-“

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Creek soothed, tracing circles on her back.

“It’s not fine! I have-I have-“ Hands waving frantically, she suddenly stopped to inspect her wrists, horrific realization dawning on her. “I have Silly Bandz, Creek!” She wailed, anguished.

Creek guided her through the restaurant’s entrance, undeterred by her outcry and utterly oblivious to the way Poppy’s shoulders tensed up.

Sometimes, she wondered if Creek assumed she didn’t know her right from her left. Somehow, his soft, gentle hands always found themselves twined around her waist or locked firmly on her back and somehow, she was always being steered in the direction he intended, amidst his loving words. To be honest, she was getting tired of it. Maybe it was just a Creek thing, a fond way of keeping his dear old friend by his side. It was quite sweet when she thought of it that way but nonetheless, Poppy really couldn’t bring herself to be comfortable with this gesture anymore. Something about it made her insides feel uneasy.

“Something wrong there?” He inquired, noticing her slight fidgeting.

_Could you maybe stop leading me around like a little kid?_

“Um. Um…no.” She smiled. “Everything’s all fine and good. I’m just kinda weird and hangover-y, I guess.”

Then again, Poppy would probably be counting this momentous occasion as their first date and it had to be a perfect story for their future grandchildren. It would be best if she didn’t ruin it by insulting one of his recurring affectionate gestures. She might hurt his feelings. Creek didn’t deserve to have his feelings hurt.

While she may have imagined it, his grasp on her seemed to tighten.

The restaurant was beautiful, Poppy noted in an effort to think about something else. Glittering chandeliers hung above their heads, pots of decorate ficuses placed along a ruby carpet led them into the dining hall. The music was light and melodious and not nearly powerful enough to dance to.

“I look pretty outta place.” She whispered to Creek, as the smartly dressed hostess ran a delicate finger through the reservation book.

Seated in the dozens of elegantly set tables were Bergens of all ages, decked out in their evening best. A quick glance over would confirm that none of them were smiling.

_They’ll never break stereotypes like this._

Creek turned to face her and with a kind smile, booped her nose. “You always look out of place, no matter where you are or what you wear. You just naturally stand out and…honestly, it’s quite the endearing quality.”

They were seated almost immediately. According to Creek, this was because of the connection he had with the restaurant.

“How’d you become connected with this place?” Poppy asked, scanning over her menu and squinting at the unfamiliar French delicacies.

“Remember how I was rarely around last Summer?”

She nodded, an explanation for his forgotten absences suddenly piquing her interest.

Creek leaned back in his chair, his easy smile in place. “I spent most of that time in Bergen Town. I worked here for a while as an apprentice, mostly shadowing Chef.”

“Is this the same Chef this place is named after?”

“Yes. The woman who keeps this place running. She’s fairly old but she’s created every recipe on the menu.” He reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Also one tough old bird. You’ll never know just how many times I got whacked with a wooden spoon. Chef doesn’t tolerate incompetence.”

Poppy couldn’t hold back a laugh. “So while me and the Snack Pack were off partying, you were getting beat up by an old lady with a spoon? Why?”

He shrugged. “Worth it, I’d say. I mean, I’ve told you before but I’d really like to pursue a future in the culinary arts. I wanted to learn and luckily, Chef wanted to teach me. Soon enough, I’ll have my own restaurant.”

“Woah, you’re gonna start a place of your own? Awesome but…you think you’re ready for all that?”

“Poppy, I’ve been planning this since I was a preteen.”

“Aaaand, how are you gonna afford it?”

His signature lopsided grin flickered across his face, a look that she would call, if using Branch terminology “That creepy fucking thing he does with his face.” However, Poppy disagreed. When a boy leaves so many things untold, it gave him an aura of mystery. Creek had earned that aura and as a result, would sometimes set people on edge with his smile. It’s not like it was his fault. “Don’t worry about the money. I’ve been working hard and soon enough I’ll be able to pay the down payment.”

“Creek!” A voice exclaimed from across the hall.

The two turned and watched as an unknown Bergen lumbered towards them, looking jubilant. While at least a head taller than both Creek and Poppy, he was clearly shorter than the average Bergen Town local. His sharp suit implied wealth but a shock of vivid green hair and plump youthful face hinted that he couldn’t be much older than either of them. However the cute ducky bib tied around his neck could only leave his age to the imagination. “Creek, buddy. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight!”

“Evening, Gristle. Have you met Poppy?”

“Hi!” Poppy waved, delighted at the prospect of a new friend.

“Hey there!” Gristle replied with equal enthusiasm, extending a hand which Poppy may have shook with a little too much force. “Jesus! You’re a strong girl. Please tell me you’re Creek’s new girlfriend, I wanna have someone like you around.”

Poppy blushed, plucking at her rubber bracelets. “Oh, well…um, I’m actually-“

“Bang on again, Gristle.” Said Creek, causing her to shoot him a puzzled look.

“I’m your girlfriend?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Well-well…that was the intention of tonight but, if you’d rather-“

“I’m his girlfriend!” Poppy chirped to Gristle who was quickly becoming her rival for the most energetic person in the room.

“You’re his girlfriend!” He exclaimed.

The next few moments were spent with vigorous handshakes and congratulations and neither Poppy nor Creek remembered at what point Gristle pulled up a chair and made himself an honorary third party member of their date.

“I enjoyed your latest review, by the way.” Creek commented, once their food had arrived. (The fact that food also arrived for Gristle made it perfectly clear that he was here to stay.)

“Thanks. That why you ordered it?” Gristle asked, jabbing his fork at Creek’s plate, voice muffled though a stuffed mouth.

“Review?” Poppy glanced between the two, curious.

“I’m a food critic for Bergen Magazine-“

“One of the best food critics, may I say?” Creek smiled, clapping Gristle on the back.

“Heh, I guess I am. Well, I am kinda well known since everywhere I go to eat, everyone treats me like I’m some sort of king,”

“You practically are a king, my friend. You own the whole city.”

“The whole city?” Poppy raised an eyebrow. “Just how rich are you?”

“O-oh yeah, no. I don’t own the whole city. Just inherited a lot of the property my dad left behind. My family actually owns this restaurant. I’ve been coming here since I was a little kid.”

Creek grinned. “I met Gristle while I was working here. I prepared his dish and he requested to see the cook behind it. We became friends after that, he gave me a sparkling review.”

“You deserved it. That was one Hell of a meal for an amateur.”

Poppy shimmied forward in her seat as the two chatted. She had made an attempt to stay focused on the current topic of conversation but her curiosity was getting to her. “So, you work for Bergen Magazine, huh?” She blurted out.

Gristle beamed at the opportunity to discuss his work, suddenly bursting into explanation. “Oh, yeah. I’ve been doing it for the past three years now. I did reviews for my school newspaper and one day my teacher told me I had talent. So long story short, the editors are some really great people and all of us actually had a meet up party a few weeks ago and I made some great friends-“

“Hey, uh, Gristle?” Poppy asked hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt him but sensing that this might go on for hours. “So, at that meetup, did you meet that poet person? Y’know, F.B Blue?”

Gristle blinked at her before chuckling. “F.B Blue? Nah, Pops. None of us are too sure about F.B Blue. The editors sent him out an invite but he rejected. We’re pretty sure the guy is some sort of recluse. Why? You a fan?”

“Well…yeah, kinda. I mean, I only started reading his stuff yesterday but I’m kinda worried about him.”

Creek gave her a funny look. “You’re worried about a poet you don’t even know?” He booped her nose again. “God, you never stop caring, do you?”

In any other case Poppy probably would have giggled but her thoughts felt a tad preoccupied. “F. B just seems, I dunno sad? Like he mostly writes these really cute love poems but sometimes, the way he writes, I’m just getting the vibe that he thinks this one girl is some sort of goddess and he just feels like dirt.”

“You’d be surprised how common that is with boys these days.” Creek mumbled, shoveling a forkful into his mouth.

“I guess I’m just a little worried about his general okay-ness and self esteem and stuff.”

Gristle chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. “Yeeeeeah, now that I think about it, you can kinda get a sad-ish sort of feel from his writing.” He brightened. “I mean, I guess I could check on him. I can get his email off the editors and me and him can start having little chit chats. I’ll be his friend.”

“You’d want to be friends with a hermit poet driven by self hatred and infatuation?” said Creek dryly.

“Of course! I mean, look how much we have in common already, we both for the same magazine, we’re both romantics-“

“When was the last time you even had a-“

“And we’re both miserable people.” Gristle spoke over Creek’s snark.

Poppy looked up, surprised. “You don’t seem like a miserable person, Gristle.”

He heaved a deep sigh. “I’m a Bergen. We’re all sad at heart.”

“You sure you’re not just letting the common idea of Bergens affect your-"

“Yes we’re all sad at heart.”

Poppy’s shoulders dropped and her lips scrunched into an irritated pout.

_Need more parties for the Bergens ASAP._

* * *

 

She didn’t catch sight of Branch at all that day. Or the next day, for that matter. It wasn’t like he had abandoned ship entirely, the occasional texts reading ‘buy milk’ and the usual sounds of clattering coming from his bedroom proved otherwise. Branch was around, Branch’s presence just wasn’t as prominent as it could have been.

While Mondays were Hell for a good portion of people, Poppy considered them a fresh start of a new week. Tuesdays were the real day of dread so that was the day she considered worthy of some good old fashioned Cheer Up Time.

She wriggled through a horde of tired Bergens, her guitar case in hand and set herself up outside one of the more expensive cosmetic stores. Her case lay open on the ground, a sheet of paper reading ‘For Charity’ taped to the lid. She grinned, holding her instrument like a knight would hold her sword, ready to conquer.

Struuuum

_“Lookin’ up at a sunny sky, so shiny and blue and there’s a butterfly! Well, isn’t that a super fantastic sign?”_

Cash began getting dropped at a gradual pace, ranging from the generous bills of wealthy shoppers to the loose pocket change of broke yet charitable college students. Poppy thanked every donor with a grateful smile and added an extra pinch of pep to the already bouncy song.

He trudged past her with his head bowed, intently watching the dance of his flyaway shoelaces.

“And here I thought you were a safety nut. Isn’t that a tripping hazard?” Poppy’s song came to a sudden halt at the sight of him.

Branch paused, not looking up as he bent over, mumbling a quiet. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Hey, hey, Mr. Grump…hey!” She lowered herself to repeatedly prod at his back.

He didn’t respond, looking very concentrated on achieving the perfect knot, as his fingers seemed to fumble far more than usual.

“I haven’t seen you in days! Where the holy heck have you been, bud?!"

“Work.” He stated simply, rising to his full height, still not turning to look at her as he slid a hand into his jean pocket.

“Looks like you gotta ask for a vacation sometime soon. It’s saying something when your own housemate has barely heard from you. Oh, oh, guess what? I’m dating Creek now. I mean-well, now it’s mostly official but we just decided on Sunday, he took me out to this restaurant, it’s called ‘Chef’s’. I dunno, I guess it’s trendy? I just thought the name was a little lazy. But anyway, we met this guy who…who owns the place….and….” Poppy trailed off. Usually Branch would cut her off by now, with a sharp. “I don’t care.” It didn’t come.

She saw the slight rise in his shoulders as he turned, expressionless. Branch looking deadpan was nothing new although was always a hint of underlying scowl. Now, he just looked like someone had sucked all the life and soul out of him. “Congratulations. I hope you guys are happy.” He said in a polite monotone.

“Thanks….” She said, surprised to find her tone just as dead as his.

Branch was an extremely cynical person who managed to scoop out a downside to every possible situation yet somehow his presence alone could never bring down her mood. But now, something was off about him and Branch’s neutral face and well wishes towards her new relationship caused her cheerful disposition to evaporate into nothingness.

Poppy stared as he fished something out of his pocket and dropped a little change that fell to her case with a clink. “Keep up the good work.” He left. Wherever he was going was unknown yet somehow Poppy doubted he was going home.

“Thanks.” She repeated to nobody in particular before attempting to pick up where she left off.

_“Hey. I’m not giving up today. There’s nothing getting in my way. And if you knock knock me over, I will get back up again….”_

She gave up. Suddenly, Poppy didn’t really feel like singing.


	7. Chapter 7

When Poppy was eleven, she developed a borderline obsession with Strawberry Fizz, the latest ‘Hip’ product that the forty two year old CEO of a popular soda franchise had deemed marketable to the youth.

Her father had done his best to be patient with his already hyperactive, preteen daughter now chugging can after can of this Hell spawn originated, sugar laced concoction.

One of the days, she had been gently tipping her swing back and forth with the toe of her sneaker when she took a sip and grimaced at the taste. It stung her tongue and with a sharp spit, she poured the remaining soda over the soggy sand beneath her.

While some aspects are timeless, others lose their punch after the hundredth time inhaled. Poppy had realized with lukewarm feelings that Strawberry Fizz was nothing but manufactured saccharine crap. Even undiluted sweetness could get old.

The days were beginning to drag, as if stretching themselves out just to irritate the bubblegum haired girl who had been so sweet for so long. While she really couldn’t keep track of dates anymore, the Snack Pack had already begun planning another party. Poppy chimed in occasionally, her sentences automatic, memorized from repetition. It was at one of those meeting that she thought about, for the first time, just how many parties they had thrown. One day, parties would grow tiresome. Or had they already?

While Poppy wouldn’t dare speak a word of this to the Snack Pack, one of the cheeriest bunch she had ever encountered, these feelings were starting to alarm her. For as long as she could smile, Poppy had been defined by her unwavering happiness. Losing that spark would be like snapping the hind legs from a chair.

Everything around her seemed to sting like Strawberry Fizz and Poppy was no longer eleven years old.

It wasn’t like this was a difficult problem to solve. All she needed to do was realize the root of these weird feelings and she could put a stop to it. For a while, she considered asking Branch. Poppy knew he dealt with problems like these, why else would she constantly pester him if not to breathe a little life into his mundane routine?

However, she decided against talking to him. Ever since his outburst about the Snack Pack in their home, Branch hadn’t really been himself. It was like all the years they had known each other had been suddenly wiped clean of his memory and replaced by a rooming agreement and civil handshake.

He didn’t complain anymore. No nagging requests to turn the music down or clean the glitter off the coffee table. He addressed her politely and still made her dinner, even if he chose to dine in the solitude of his bedroom, as opposed to the kitchen stool where they would recall their day to eachother. In theory, Branch was a million times better.

But he just wasn’t Branch anymore. Poppy’s shoulders drooped at the thought.

“I take it you’re having a rough day?”

Her head shot up, drinking in the image of a fashionably disheveled Creek, hovering above her.

It had become standard procedure for the couple to wait for each other after class and meet up with the Snack Pack for a coffee at The Happy Tree. Poppy had been slumped over the city park’s penny tossing fountain for the last half hour, textbooks lying forgotten in favor of zoning out over Branch’s recent behavior.

“Nah, I’m just kinda tired.” Poppy mumbled as Creek plopped down beside her, with a kiss of greetings planted on her cheek.

“Well, you’re lucky we’re getting coffee, aren’t you? It’ll wake you up a bit.”

“Um. H-hey, would it be okay with you if I just…um…if I just went home? I’m not really up for talking or coffee of nothin’ like that.”

Creek raised an eyebrow quizzically before draping an arm around her shoulder and tugging her closer to him. “Poppy, Poppy, now, why would you want to do that? You know how excited the Snack Pack are about our new relationship?”

“Well, yeah. I mean. I know that. I was just kinda-“

“Although, don’t get me wrong. It’s not all about the relationship. They want to see _you_. They’ve probably had a hard time today too and there’s nothing like some Poppy Pep Magic to brighten their spirits.” He smiled warmly, poking her nose. “Now, are you telling me you’re not going to take the time out of your day to make them happy?”

Poppy exhaled heavily. “Yeah, okay. You’re right. I gotta be there for my friends.” Looks like she would have to pluck up all her remaining energy until she was completely drained. At least Creek was trying to snap her back to her old self. He was such a considerate boyfriend.

“There’s the Poppy I love.” Creek grinned, pulling her up by the hands and tucking away the loose books into her bag. “Allow me to carry this for you, my lady.”

She chuckled halfheartedly with a weak attempt at a curtsy. “Thank you, good sir.”

Their stroll consisted of a rather one sided conversation as Creek rambled about his recently purchased eBook of organic herbal remedies. Every now and again, Poppy would hum in acknowledgement.

“-and there’s this brilliant tea that’s supposed to soothe stress, I’d love to brew some for you the next time you-“

“Do you think Branch hates me?”

“Er, what?” Creek turned to his girlfriend, only now noticing her furrowed brow.

It didn’t take more than a brief inquiry to send Poppy launching into explanation. “Okay so ever since he yelled at me and stood on my invitation, he’s barely been home unless he has absolutely nowhere else to go and even when he is home, he just ignores me-like he’ll talk to me but he never acts like himself anymore and I dunno if it’s something I did or if he just-“

“Poppy!” Creek seized her shoulders to calm her. The method didn’t work and Poppy blinked repeatedly at him with saucer-like eyes. “Alright, now just take a moment to compose yourself.”

She took a deep breath and shook her wrists. “Okay-okay. I’m calm. It’s all fine.”

“Now, I may have an explanation for this but you need to promise me you won’t get upset. We’re not too far from The Happy Tree and the Snack Pack are relying on you.”

“I-I uh.” Her emotions were not really something she could promise on. “Yeah, uh. I won’t get upset. Promise.”

“Alright then.” Creek said airily, gently nudging her forward until she found herself resuming their walk. “Now, I hate to say something like this to you as your emotional well being is one of my top priorities but the fact of the matter is…is, well…he’s grown out of you.”

Poppy halted. “What?!” She gazed desperately at Creek, who shrugged. “No, what does that even mean?”

She was walking again. The hand on her back made sure of that.

“Poppy, don’t misunderstand. You are an amazing young lady. You’re nearly a legal adult and throughout the years, you’ve managed to hold on to the childhood innocence that was crushed out of most of us by High School. It’s a gift, really and I’ve admired it since we were teenagers.”

Poppy blushed but her smile was tight. “Thank you. But-but what does that have to do with Branch?”

Creek glanced at her sympathetically. “Branch has grown up a lot quicker than the rest of us. After Rosiepuff, the Branch we knew, was gone completely. While he shrugged off the rest of us for being…um…obnoxious…or annoying or-“

“He says he hates you ‘cause he thinks you’re slimy.”

“Yes, anyway.” Creek snapped. “Branch remained friends with you because he needed…something. Something that could remind him of the way he was before. You see, growing up that quickly can be rough on a child and a part of his subconscious just wanted to cling on to something that remained of his old life because…because he didn’t want to lose himself. Not entirely, anyway. Unfortunately, you were that something. Branch used you as an emotional crutch.”

Poppy chewed her bottom lip. “Uhhhh, I dunno. He never really acted like he needed me. I mean, he argued a lot when I asked him to live with me.”

“Yes, because Branch hasn’t really needed you in months, maybe even a few years. Err, when exactly did he start being rude to you?”

“He’s been acting like that since we were like nine.”

“Oh, really? Well, I suppose he’s just been growing out of you gradually then. The reason he still put up with you for so long afterwards was just that…you know that feeling when you need to give up your old teddy bear?”

She shook her head. “Well no, not really, I still have all my teddy bears. They’re all over my room.”

Creek sighed before smiling fondly at her. “Of course. You see, this is why Branch hasn’t been around lately.”

“Is it ‘cause my bears stink? I swear I still wash them-“

“No, Poppy. Because, even though he’s kept you around for so long, it was mostly out of that faint affection, you’d feel for an old toy. At the age he’s at now, Branch probably feels like he won’t be able to fully grow up with someone as childish as you constantly hanging around. He’s…just letting you go.”

Poppy felt the rock in her stomach drop lower. “He…he doesn’t need me around? Like, at all? Yeah, I mean, I know I don’t really act mature but that doesn’t that I’m-“

“Sssshhh…” Creek was rubbing circles on the small of her back. “Just because Branch matured faster than the rest us, doesn’t mean he can’t have his faults. He abandoned you because he thinks you're childish, because according to him, that’s not a valued trait. Branch doesn’t understand that there’s so much more layers to you than the ditz he thinks you are.”

“That’s all he saw me as?” She was growing more and more tired by the second, a lump in her throat suddenly aching as her entire history with an old friend was being warped with a bitter truth.

“Poppy…” Creek said softly, kissing her temple. “You shouldn’t become so down just because of something Branch thinks. I know you’re an intelligent and compassionate woman and I love you, childishness and all.”

She hugged him. Tightly. A strangled squeak escaped Creek’s throat and she laughed weakly. “I love you too.”

Standing to his full height, Creek untangled their limbs and held her at arm’s length. He flicked his chin at the cosy little coffee shop that was just a building away. “Now, you’re not upset are you? We can’t go in if you’re like that.”

Poppy shook her head firmly, scrubbing at her quivering lips with her palm and pulling up a broad grin. She had never considered just how many muscles it took to smile. Why had they never ached so much before?

* * *

 

Guy Diamond had always been addicted to the limelight. Since he was a child, he practically lived in the theater program, just so some stagehand peasant could get extra credit for shining dazzling, golden rays upon the entity himself. Unfortunately, Guy soon discovered that a spotlight would not follow him around for the rest of his life.

During his preteen years, he dedicated himself to _becoming_ the spotlight and dressed from head to toe in glittering couture. He drew eyes wherever he went and he couldn’t be happier. Thank God Satin and Chenille were both his friends and aspiring fashion designers or Guy would be homeless by now. He was their biggest fan and couldn’t wait to sing their praises to a wide scale audience once they became rich and famous and flaunt his freebies in the public’s face.

But despite his undying love to himself, Guy Diamond often found himself wracked with worry when an issue arose with someone close to him.

“Hi, Gorgeous!” He sang, slamming open Creek’s apartment door. After enough pestering, Creek had given him a key.

“Hello, beautiful.” Creek responded wryly, legs crossed over a bare mattress and his eyes never leaving his laptop screen.

“Sooo, how are youuu?” He plopped down next to his barely responsive friend, throwing his arms around his neck. Guy Diamond was rather touchy by nature and luckily, Creek was a difficult person to aggravate.

“My mood hasn’t really changed since the last time you saw me. Did we not just get coffee with the others two hours ago?”

“Oh, yeah, yeeeah. But I just wanted to check and make sure. Maaaybe, have a little chat while we’re at it?” Guy Diamond’s gaze flicked downwards to Creek’s phone which lay in his lap. “Has your mom called back?”

Creek’s head snapped up and while a glare flickered briefly, his face settled as he groaned. “No. No, she hasn’t. Odds are she has no intention to. Hey, do you have any pictures of Poppy on your phone?”

“Probably. Why?”

“Email them to me, I’m collecting them.”

Guy pulled out his bedazzled phone from tight jeans and glanced at Creek’s laptop. As expected, he was browsing through a folder of Poppy pictures. “What d’you need them for?”

Creek didn’t answer immediately, the silence occupied by the occasional click of his touchpad. “I’m making a collage.” He said easily. “Trying to find the happiest pictures. You know how Poppy’s smile is practically luminescent?”

Guy Diamond huffed but nodded reluctantly. Any sparkling and shining adjectives should be reserved for him only.

“Yes, well, I’m trying to find the images that capture that smile best. The ones that summarize her best, really."

“Creek?”

“Mm?”

“How is Poppy?”

Creek looked up at him curiously. “She’s fine, why do you ask?”

Guy rolled his tongue around the inside of his check as he tried to piece together a way to phrase this. “She just hasn’t really been acting like Poppy these days. It’s like she’s an incompetent actress who’s reading Poppy’s lines. All the words are there but the spirit isn’t.”

“Guy, let me assure you, Poppy is perfectly fine. Our relationship is going swimmingly. Maybe she’s just going through some….” Creek smirked. “Woman problems.”

Guy Diamond waved a hand dismissively. “No that’s impossible, her last was only a week ago.”

Creek gaped. “Does she actually tell you when she-?“

“I carry tampons in my purse for all the girls. Anyway, all I’m saying is that Poppy just isn’t herself and I was just wondering if you had any idea at all what could be the matter?”

Creek stared, baffled before giving Guy Diamond a firm clap on the shoulder. “Thank you for your concern. It’s nice to know you care enough to make sure but Poppy is fine. I’m fine. We’re both fine. The likeliest thing is that she’s just a bit stressed and distracted with class. Now, can I make you a cup of tea?”

Guy Diamond did not feel particularly satisfied with his answer and the uneasy feeling in his stomach did not stop squirming at Creek’s reassurance. Nonetheless, he agreed to the tea.

“Good, and while we’re at it, you can email me those pictures.”

* * *

 

Branch was sick of this job. No, not his position at the arcade (although that job had a right to go fuck itself too) but writing melodramatic poetry for a stupid magazine that he didn’t even fucking read, was trying his patience. The worst part was that he was good at it.

He had received a lot of feedback from the publishers, praising his work and Branch had never felt so pissed off in his life. Was this his calling? Was this seriously his calling?

As if to poke the sleeping dragon even more, he was now getting spammed with multiple emails from some happy go lucky asshole who claimed to work for the magazine. The dude wouldn’t even tell him his fucking name, insisting that his alias was Lord Glitter Sparkles. Was this the universe’s way of chastising him for making Poppy cry? Not that he didn’t deserve it but Jesus, this was some cruel and unusual punishment.

To be perfectly honest, Branch was just getting worse by the day and he realized this. More aggravated, more angry, more miserable and good God, was he exhausted from feeling things so violently. He really was a fucking nightmare without Poppy. Luckily, he managed to control himself in her presence, straight faced and dead eyed. Just the way Branch should be.

His phone buzzed. A text, why the fuck not? And another, and another, and another, for fuck sake, did someone add him to a group chat or something?

Branch stared down at the screen. Creek. Oh, yes, how could he have forgotten about their unique, inpenetrable and borderline homo erotic friendship?

“The fuck does he want?” He mumbled, opening up their chat history. How did this guy even get his number anyway? Wormed his way in probably, that sneaky son of a bitch.

Suddenly, Poppy’s brilliant smile was assaulting his vision. Image after image, every one as radiant as the next.

_'^^ Pictures from this week'_

_'It’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Thank you for backing off and making this possible'_

Branch clenched and unclenched his jaw, trying to prevent himself from smashing his phone screen again. He couldn’t afford a new one right now.

This was a good thing. This was a very good thing. Branch was doing good for once in his worthless, pathetic life and if the result of his good made him lose his fucking mind in the process then so be it. Poppy was happy and that was all that mattered.

He needed to get his poem finished. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could write about something that didn’t involve crushing loneliness.

* * *

 

F.B Blue was getting worse.

Poppy’s gaze drifted down the glossy page, his words growing more and more desolate by the stanza. She should really hunt the guy down just so she could pay him handsomely for so accurately narrating her current week. Hopefully, Gristle was making an effort to befriend him by now.

She was knelt over the coffee table, snipping away at bright orange construction paper with her safety scissors, splodges of glue and glitter littering the surface. Her laminated list of names lay on her right.

Another weekend, another party and like always, Poppy was tasked with making the invitations. While she was slightly reluctant at first, she found that arts and crafts time was far more effective than she realized. The paper, the glitter, the colors, it all made her feel like the old Poppy. Although F.B’s recent poem had dampened her spirits just a tad, invitation making was her element and she was in an upbeat mood for the first time in days.

Neatly stacking Suki’s completed invitation down on the pile, she glanced down at the list.

_Shit, there goes the good mood._

Branch’s name was proclaimed in thick, bold writing. At the time, Poppy had found it funny to poke fun of his stoic demeanor, as the font contrasted so clearly with the swirly lettered names above and below him. Not so funny now though. Seeing his name at all, wasn’t funny.

Her finger hesitated, although after a solid minute of deliberation, slid over his name and she picked up her scissors to begin work on Biggie’s invitation.

He didn’t want one. He never wanted one. Poppy had wasted her time believing he ever had.

* * *

 

Long story short, Branch needed to find a different grocery store. He may or may not have knocked over an entire display unite in a fit of frustration. After the clerk had ‘escorted’ him out by the earlobe, she had ‘requested’ that he never show his ugly fucking face in their establishment ever again. So yeah, hopefully he could scrape together a dinner for two, with what was left in the cabinet.

The sight that greeted him in the kitchen was not unpleasant but Branch still tore his gaze away, feeling guilty for staring.

A short, shapely leg was propped up on the table so its owner could adjust the strap of her high heel. Once securely tightened, the leg fell to the floor with a click.

Poppy was dressed in what was possibly the tiniest pair of shorts he had ever seen, a tight mauve tube top and of course, her infamous skyscraper heels. Her hair was curled and teased so wild that the little decorate flowers fell hidden under the unruly locks and her face caked under a powdered layer of make-up, vivid pink lipstick perfect for signing Creek as her own.

“Uhh…dinner?” Branch tried, hoping that his staring had only lasted a split second.

She shook her head. “No thanks. Goin’ out. We’re throwin' another party.”

Branch didn’t respond as the girl turned away from him, shoving her keys, wallet and remnants of make-up into her handbag.

A party. There was going to be a party. Poppy was known for parties. Poppy threw a lot of parties. Poppy made the invitations herself. Poppy gave everyone an invitation.

Branch knew for a fact that Poppy did not give everyone an invitation. Not this time.

“Okay, okay, cool. I hope-uh, have fun. I’m-I’m gonna-g’night.” He bolted, practically diving into his room. He couldn’t get the damn door shut fast enough.

His mind was racing, his throat was burning, his breath was coming in tight gasps.

_What kind of fucking pathetic crybaby are you?!_

His invitations, he always got an invitation. He kept them, he looked at them, he treasured them and he didn’t realize until he could barely breathe over them but he relied on them.

They were a thread, a little personalized thread that confirmed no matter how rude he could be, that Poppy still thought about him, still considered him a worthy friend and the idea of inviting him to her party was unquestionable. It was that one tiny token that spoke clearer than a million words, that she still cared about him.

She had stopped making him one.

When Branch had decided to distance himself from her, he hadn’t even considered the invitations but now everything about them was hitting him with full force.

He was pacing now, raking jittering hands through greasy hair and after the hundredth shaky breath, he sobbed, utterly defeated.

Once he started, he had no idea how to make it stop. Tears were sliding down in fat, ugly dollops, leaving puddles on his wooden floor. He had given in and his legs couldn’t be bothered to resist anymore. Tired and sick of everything, he fell to the floor in a wracking, sobbing lump.

_Are you seriously crying over a piece of cardboard with a smiley face on it?!_

He was and didn’t let the dramatics of it all escape him, it just made him sink lower as his mind shrieked about what a whiny piece of shit he was.

The door of his room was squeaky and Branch had always been grateful that an intruder would not go unnoticed as he slept. However, for all his talk about vigilance, as he wheezed and blubbered in his pitiful little state of mind, he barely noticed the sound it made.

It was only after a few seconds that his head lifted itself up from his knees when he caught her standing in the doorway. Her hand hovering uncertainly over the handle, expression a mix of concern, terror and absolute bewilderment.

“Branch?”


	8. Chapter 8

_Middle School had not been kind to Branch._

_He was damn lucky that he had chosen a seat in the very back of the auditorium, as he was soon charging for the exit, viciously tugging his arm free from the plump, elderly Math teacher, who’s voice dripped with sympathy as she asked if he would like to wait out the rest of the assembly in the staff room._

_It was the eyes that got to him, every kid in the room twisted their body in order to get a glimpse at his reaction, already prepared to whisper something scandalous to the person on their right. Branch had never enjoyed being the centre of attention, but at age thirteen, the prospect was terrifying. His internal panicking may have been a bit dramatic but uncontrollable regardless._

_The teachers hadn’t bothered to tell the students of the assembly’s purpose. Maybe, just maybe, it would have been a good idea to inform Branch that Road Safety was the topic at hand. Or at least warn him that a particular car crash victim would be mentioned and discussed. But nope. Why would they need to do that? Kids love surprises, right?_

_He was tearing through the vacant hallway, scrubbing at his overflowing eyes and doing his best to control shaky breathing._

_“Branch?”_

_His head snapped up, his heart stopping dead._

_She had appeared from around the corner, probably returning to the assembly after a bathroom break, her floral high tops squeaking to a halt._

_Poppy was gazing at him, looking as frivolous as ever. She was the only seventh grader he knew, who would dare wear a tutu and secure her long dark hair in polka dotted scrunchies, without fear of being ridiculed._

_He strode past her without a word, eyes trained on the tiled floor although Poppy was on his heels in an instant. Branch saw her shadow looming over him, hurrying to keep up. She was taller than him and it irked him even further. As if he didn’t feel like enough of a little kid already._

_"Branch! Branch, what happened?"_

_"Nothing!"_

_"Then, why are you crying?"_

_"I'm not crying!"_

_"You are! You totally are! Branch, it's okay. Just lemme-"_

_"Fuck off!" He growled, shoving away the hand that had grabbed his shoulder._

_Poppy didn't relent, seizing hold of his wrist with a rushed "I just want to help, I don't want you to-"_

_"I SAID FUCK OFF!" Branch exploded, whipping around and with a fierce push, slammed the girl against a locker, causing a clatter and clang._

_Apart from a startled gasp, Poppy barely reacted. Chewing her bottom lip, she raised her hands in defeat, avoiding eye contact. “Sorry.” She mumbled._

_Branch hovered uncertainly for a moment, before he turned on his heels and ran, tear trails dried down his cheeks._

_He never did apologize._

* * *

 

The seconds passed in relative silence, save for Branch’s trembling breath. Once he found he couldn’t handle Poppy’s stunned stare, he tore his gaze away to retreat into the pit of his knees.

The most inconvenient thing about crying was that, once the episode had begun, it was difficult to cease. A panicked body coupled with a lost and confused state of mind. Damp stains were pooling into his jeans and soaking his skin, his entire frame shook with unsteady gasps and his subconscious was screaming vicious insults at him, ‘Pathetic, whiny piece of shit!!’ being the most prominent.

He heard a pair of bare feet padding across his floor and felt her shift into a comfortable sitting position as she placed herself down beside him. While Branch didn’t dare look up at her, the thought of her eyes locked on his weeping form, crept up the side lines of his mind and lifting his head slightly, he made a desperate attempt to stifle his wracking sobs with his fist.

“You don’t need to do that.” Said Poppy calmly. “I think I read somewhere that it’s healthy to just-y’know, finish what’cha started. You just keep doin’ you, bud. It’ll stop when it stops.”

Of all the things Branch was expecting, this kind of reaction was not among them. Where was the frantically fussing Poppy that he had shoved out of pure frustration? Here was goddamn Poppy, being a composed and respectable adult and here he was, back at square one, just as much of a snivelling baby as he was at thirteen.

Then again, while the sight of her in his bedroom originally struck him with terror, now that she had seen him in this state and wasn’t freaking out, her voice and her presence was…comforting. Hell, Poppy was now sitting there and watching him cry, he couldn’t possibly have anything to lose after this. Plus, it’s not like he would prefer the company of anyone else.

He did as she suggested and resting his forehead against the rough texture of denim, released every tremor of a sob that whined from the back of his throat, tired groans escaping every so often.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked, with the light, breezy tone of girl inquiring on the weather.

“No.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

There was a silence. Poppy fished out the invisible words.

“Okay. So, you don’t wanna talk, I get that. What if I talked? I can talk for a while, y’know.”

Branch made a non-committal hum.

_I know you can, believe me._

Poppy chuckled “You got it, friendo!”

She leaned back, settling her spine against the foot of his bed and she talked. And she talked. And she talked. Good God, could Poppy talk.

Branch often had days where he had nothing really to report when Poppy asked him about it at dinner but from the sound of it, he had plenty to say, he was just a terrible story teller. With enough of a positive outlook, it wasn’t difficult to string up stories out of nothing.

It had been almost seven minutes and Poppy was still thoroughly invested in her tale of this morning’s buttered toast and scrambled eggs, often losing the direct train of thought as she diverged into the little toast butterflies that her dad used to prepare, when she was a toddler. Branch hung on every word.

She talked about her adventures in city busking, describing with an almost photo perfect description, the oddities of Bergens that strolled past. “One guy was wearing a top hat! Can you believe that, Branch? It was like he stepped right out of the Victorian era…” Poppy then completely derailed her criticism as she admitted that she found it to be quite an attractive hat. Okay, maybe it was a little cool. Maybe it was a lot cool. Okay, fine! Poppy wanted a top hat now.

She talked about the latest party planning meeting with the Snack Pack and how Biggie had been struck with a case of home sickness and spent the entire day flipping through photo albums of his beloved hairless cat, Mr. Dinkles.

“I thought Mr. Dinkles was the guy who ran the ice cream place.” Branch thought aloud, uncertain of when sobs had subsided but too immersed in the current topic at hand to have noticed.

“Nah, that’s Biggie’s dad. Mr. Dinkles is their mascot. The name just kinda suits an ice cream parlor, y’know.”

Branch nodded thoughtfully. He had always wondered why he had never come across this elusive, ridiculously dubbed ice cream man in such a small town.

Poppy pulled up a hand and plucked at the tight fabric of her tube top, Branch’s eyes shooting to the ceiling as it looked as if something indecent were to be exposed. After a solid number of seconds, he glanced down cautiously, only to find her fingers dancing across her phone screen, which had somehow materialized.

_What kind of magic trick fuckery…_

“What are you doing?”

“Texting the group chat.” She replied casually. “Gotta let the Snack Pack know I can’t make it to the party.”

“Oh, uh…” Branch managed, wiping the back of his neck. “You-you really don’t have to do that. Go have fun, y’know? I don’t wanna…ruin your night.”

Poppy raised her gaze to stare to the wall, her lips tightening. Suddenly, she turned to face him, looking slightly hurt. “You were the one who told me I was wasting my college education by partying. You just gonna think I’m a ditz, no matter what I do?”

Branch stared at her, bewildered. _Where the ever loving fuck did that come from?_   “I don’t think you’re a-“

“Don‘t get me wrong!” She hurried. “Like I’m not surprised…well-well, I _am_ surprised but….I guess I can see where it’s coming from? I mean, I know I don’t act like a-like a ‘Smart Person,’” She took the liberty of miming her own air quotes. “But I know you and you know me and even if you’re pretty mean a whole lotta the time, I always kinda thought you were one of my friends who understands, like…but just the whole time you thought I was dumb and-“

“I don’t think you’re dumb!” Branch had to raise his voice to he heard over her incessant rambling.

“You do!” Poppy countered. “You always thought I was an airheaded ditz and you only put up with me because you needed to socialize with somebody, I get it, okay?! I understand why you did it and I’m not even blaming you, I just-“

Branch made a sudden jerk, sitting himself up on his knees and pressing his finger to Poppy’s forehead.

“I.” Poke. “Don’t.” Poke. “Think.” Poke. “You’re.” Poke. “Dumb!”

Branch held her gaze, a feat for him, really. While his eyes were undoubtedly red rimmed, he didn’t look away. Who cares if she saw? It was just Poppy after all.

She lifted a palm to massage her forehead. “You’re bein’ serious.” She said quietly, more to herself than him. Whatever convinced her was anyone’s guess.

“Yeah, no shit.” He almost laughed at the bemused look on her face before sobering up. He said it before and he’ll say it again. Branch currently had nothing to lose. The least he could try to do was a little good. “Alright, listen. I know I say a lot of stupid things…”

Poppy nodded attentively. “A lot.”

“Thanks for agreeing. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.” Branch deadpanned.

“No problem!”

“Anyway…” He continued, wringing his fingers as his mind worked furiously to piece together an acceptable apology. “A lot of the time I say things, I don’t-I don’t think about ‘em. And then, they end up being really asshole-ish and….I’m sorry. I’m sorry for every time I’ve been a dick to you, or whatever made you believe that I thought you were a ditz. I don’t, by the way. I know you’re smart. That goes without saying. So, uh, yeah…” Branch glanced up, relieved to see a grateful smile. “I know I probably should have said it like forever ago but…sorry. Really, really sorry.”

“Aww….” Poppy simpered before clearing her throat and donning her ‘Mayor To Be’ Persona. “After much deliberation, I have decided to forgive you.”

Branch smirked. “Yeah, thought long and hard, I see.”

“Why, of course.” She managed an elegant wave of the hand. “Wait…wait…hey, wait a minute!”

“What now? You remember something else I gotta apologize for? I know there’s a lot but-“

“Why were you ignoring me all week?” Poppy demanded, arms folding tightly over her chest.

“Technically, I wasn’t ignoring you-ow!” Branch grunted as he received a rather spirited blow to the forearm.

“Don’t get technical with me, Mister!” She said sharply, her little fist still balled and ready to strike again.

_Jesus, that girl can pack a punch._

“You weren’t being yourself at all! Hell, you would probably still be weird if I hadn’t walked in on you!”

“I was literally just crying, woman! What is with the sudden abuse?!”

Poppy fixed him with what he assumed was a glare. Yep, she still couldn’t glare. She had the expressional face for sure, but just not the malice. However, that didn’t stop him from absolutely jumping out of his skin when she seized his chin between two fingers, forcing his face in her direction. “This is the one thing that I’m not gonna let you beat around the bush with, it’s important to me, okay? Why did you act like you barely knew me? You just…you were acting like we…weren’t friends. A-and for the longest, I thought we were. I wanna know why you did it and you better be fucking honest with me, Branch.”

Branch’s eyes widened. “Wow, she swears.”

Poppy raised her fist.

“Alright, alright!” He pried himself from her grip, his other hand flying to guard his previously assaulted arm. “It’s just…I thought I was doing a good thing. Like, I’m not a fun guy to hang around, I just act pissy and bring people down and….you don’t really deserve half the shit I give ya. You just wanna be happy and…I guess, you’d just be better off without me around as much?”

The silence was unsettling. Branch glanced up uncertainly and was relieved to see Poppy had lowered her fist. Her expression flickered from a grimace into genuinely baffled. “Where did you get a stupid idea like that?” She asked bluntly.

_From your genius boyfriend._

He shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It was just after I flipped my shit at you that I decided to initiate it. I mean, you’re dating Creek now and you’ve been the happiest you’ve ever been so...”

“I have not been happy.” Poppy stated with such simplicity though the force of her sentence sliced through Branch’s words in an instant.

He raised a brow, utterly perplexed. “No? N-no you are, I’ve seen-“

“This has been the worst week of my life, Branch and…and…” She trailed off, staring down at her lap, her contemplative look dawning in realization. “And I’m an idiot!” She shrieked.

Branch jumped, clutching his heart at her sudden outburst. Poppy was literally going to be the death of him.

“W-what?! What, no. Poppy, we’ve been over this.”

“No, don’t worry, not like that.” She assured him giddily. “It’s just that….it’s you! Oh my God, Branch, it’s you!”

“Yup. It’s me. Still here. Hi.”

“You’re the reason my whole week has been so shit, don’t you get it?”

“Why such foul language all of a sudden? It’s a disgrace.”

“This coming from _you_ of all people?”

“I’m the scum of the earth, I can say whatever the fuck I want.”

Poppy huffed, tipping her head back to rest on his bed. “I need you, ya grump.” She mumbled to the ceiling.

Branch’s roll of sarcastic comments shrivelled on his tongue. “N-need me? Need _me_? Me, of all people? Ha-have you met me? You can’t be serious.”

“I am!” She insisted, rolling her head to gaze down at him. “I dunno how to explain it but….when you’re not around, bein’ a dick-oh, shut up!” She lightly whacked his arm as he gasped weakly at her profanity. “When you’re not around for a while, things get weird. It’s like all…happy weird? Like everything is all sugary and sweet and ugghh…..and then nothing feels real! And I get all sick of it and then all the stuff I love just gets boring and-and I hate it! It’s-it’s just, I guess it’s you that…makes everything seem real? I dunno, does this make any sense to you?”

Branch shook his head hopelessly. He tried to follow that. He really did. “Not really, sorry.”

Poppy sighed. “You don’t have to get it just….stay with me, okay?”

_God, I fucking wish I could._

“Look, Poppy. I want you to consider this, really consider this ‘cause...I’m not any good to have around, to be perfectly honest with ya. And don’t-“ He snapped a finger to her parting lips just as she took a breath. “-give me the nice shit, okay? Don’t tell me that ‘Everyone’s special in their own way’ I’ve heard it. Several times. It’s not true, alright? There are some worthless people out there that you don’t want in your life, no matter how much you think you do. I’m one of those people and…” He took a steadying breath. Branch had run through words like this a thousand times in his head but he had never spoken them aloud before. His throat was tightening rapidly.

“Okay, stop.” Poppy grabbed the finger that was squashing her lips and captured the entire hand with her own. She lowered it into her lap.

Branch stared, unblinking.

“How long have you been thinking like this?” She asked gently.

“Thinking like what?”

“Thinking that you’re worthless.”

Branch groaned. “So this is the ‘Everyone is Special’ talk. Poppy, I’m tired, can we just-”

“Do you think you’re worthless?”

“I am!”

“No, Branch.” She said sternly, suddenly grasping hold of his shoulders as if sensing his urge to squirm away. “You just decided you are because you let the bad parts of your head take over all logical thought.”

Branch was almost offended. “I have spent several nights fucking losing sleeping thinking about this, I can’t have lost all logica-“

“You’ve let them grow.”

“Let what grow?!”

“The bad parts.” Poppy murmured. “You can’t even see the good parts because the bad is all you think about.”

“I don’t fucking have any good parts!” Branch didn’t realize he was yelling until he heard the sound pound against his wall.

Poppy didn’t flinch. “Alright.” She said softly. “Do you want me to tell you your good parts?”

He said nothing. He was going to have to sit and watch as she floundered to find something, _something_ to compliment on the grumpy, cynical, bitchy, whiny, gloomy, angry, pathetic, worthless goddamn waste of space. He was too fucking tired for this.

Yet again, she took his silence as an affirmative. “Remember when you made me that stack of pancakes with gummy bears and aspirin? I needed that a lot, it was really nice of you.”

“You had a hangover.” He said blankly. “I just thought-”

“You didn’t have to do it. So, why did you?”

“Cause you had a hangover!” He repeated impatiently.

Poppy rolled her eyes. “Uh, yeah? But that didn’t mean you had to make it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

Branch tried to form some acceptable answer. The thought of leaving her something to eat that morning, had been unquestionable. His brain was now senselessly looping _she had a hangover, she had a hangover, she had a hangover._

Poppy smiled patiently. “Alright, remember that time in eighth grade, when you left me that handmade bracelet and card and shoved it in my locker?”

“That wasn’t me! You can’t prove-“

She raised an eyebrow. “You think I don’t recognize your handwriting?”

Branch shut up.

“What about the time when we were kids, I got all tangled in spiders webs and you helped me clean them all off?”

“You were traumatized and crying!”

“Yeah, yeah and you cared.” The grip on his shoulders suddenly got tighter as Poppy leaned closer, looking firm. “Branch, you let yourself be mean a good amount of the time because that’s just what you expect yourself to be. But when you just stop and think about something else that’s not your bad parts, you’ve got it in you to be a really nice guy.”

Branch clenched his teeth.

_You’re an asshole, you’re an asshole, you’re an asshole, you’re an asshole,_

“Please, I’m begging you. Just try to stop the bad parts from thinking for you.”

“They’re all I got…” His voice cracked.

“No, they’re not. Listen to me. My name is Poppy and I happen to be one of the happiest and smartest people I know. I have a friend called Branch who I really like to be around. I like to hang with him ‘cause he’s funny, ‘cause he tells me about his day, ‘cause he’s a good guy in general. He’s got flaws and sometimes he lets them overrun his good parts but he’s kind and I know he is…even if he doesn’t.”

Branch’s eyes were darting across her expression, like it was a puzzle that he was tasked to solve.

“If you’re not going to trust yourself, then trust me instead?” Her eyes softened as she studied his face, her expression painfully sincere. “You don’t have to love yourself right away but I like having you as a friend. If someone like me enjoys your company, maybe you could consider that you’re not all bad?”

His lip bent, his face’s way of telling him that now would be a good time to cry. Branch didn’t agree. Feeling drained (yet strangely, not in an unpleasant sense), he dropped his head against Poppy’s shoulder. This was weird. This was so, so weird. There was a person, a person he had known all his life, telling him things he had never heard, and between every second, he felt something. Something slight but familiar. Emotions he hadn’t felt since he lost Rosiepuff.

_Maybe she’s not totally wrong._

A strange thought for his mind to have. Strange, unfamiliar though Branch wasn’t sure if he would prefer to hear ‘Piece of shit’ another time. This was alright.

“Thanks.” It hadn’t occurred to him that he had said this. He thought it but Branch couldn’t care in the slightest if Poppy heard it. He wasn’t surprised as the pair of arms slid down his shoulders and wrapped around his middle. The energy to hug back wasn’t there but he would be sure to return the favour one day.

For a while neither of them spoke, Poppy still hugging him tightly, Branch burrowed in her shoulder. The peace was nice.

“Is it alright if I ask you one thing?”

Branch hummed in acknowledgement.

“Why were you crying?”

He chuckled, the whole notion of his emotional outburst seeming ridiculous in hindsight. Poppy, not caring. Poppy couldn’t stop caring if she tried.

“I didn’t get an invite to your party and I got pissy.”

“I’m serious, Branch.”

“So am I.” He poked his head up to smile wryly at her. “Wanna see something crazy?”

There were certain things that Poppy couldn’t know, things he couldn’t tell her. But, maybe some things were not worth keeping secret if the long and nonsensical conversations formed from them, were too much of a drug to pass up.

With a smile that he felt was too wide for his own face, he tugged out his old, battered cardboard box. He kicked it, causing its contents to flow across his floor.

Poppy was astonished, her eyes snapping from one card to another. “Are these-why do you have-oh my God!”

Branch smirked, crashing down beside her plucking up an invite to wave in front of her face. “So, I’m pretty sure you made this when we were like…nine. I’ve been wondering this for years, why did you draw a little cloud man wearing socks…like, he doesn’t even have shoes, explain this fuckery to me, Poppy.”

Hours passed, the two of them combing through various invitations and getting wrecked with wave after wave of nostalgia, plus a couple of contagious laughing spells. (“What the actual fuck, Poppy?” “I have no idea what was going through my head when I drew that but I don’t regret it!”) Branch told her more that night than he did during any dinner. He confessed that he liked the invitations themselves, even if he wasn’t too interested in parties. Surprisingly, Poppy took this in her stride. It was a good night. Branch even wondered if she had more fun here than she would have at the party.

“Hey,” She bumped his elbow with her own.

“Yeah?”

“We’re friends again, right? It’s not gonna be like we don’t know each other anymore.”

“No. We’re friends and we’ll stay like that.”

“Good.” Poppy grinned before shooting up on her knees and planting a firm kiss on his cheek.

Branch screamed.

Poppy bent over backwards, laughing. “It’s a friend kiss! I give them to all my friends but you never let me before!”

“You imprinted on me!” Branch cried, pointing to his vivid pink lipstick mark. “I can’t believe my own friend has betrayed me this way!”

They argued for a while, Poppy trying to speak through giggles and Branch growing pinker by the second. They carried on like they always did, how they were meant to carry on. They had come a long way since Middle School.

It was that night, as he tried to get some sleep for tomorrow’s shift, that Branch had another unfamiliar thought and like before, it was more comforting than alarming.

_Things might just turn out okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW HAVE ALL YOU GUYS SEEN FROOTPUNCH'S FANART  
> [Mr Dinkles Ice Cream](http://frootpunch.tumblr.com/post/155966801033)
> 
> [Little winter babies](http://frootpunch.tumblr.com/post/156012389423)
> 
> THANK YOU FROOTPUNCH! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY YOU MADE ME!!


	9. Chapter 9

“-Oh, oh, oh, but listen, I gotta tell you the best part! So he takes out this box, a big banged up ol’ box, and it’s chalk full of party invitations, but not just _any_ invitations-!”

“Honey,” The old woman interrupted gently. “I know you’re very excited about all this but I have a lot of other customers to attend to.”

Poppy glanced back, noticing the line of frustrated Bergens that was growing behind her. “Ohhhh, right, right, sorry. I’ll take, uh….” Her finger drifted uncertainly over the glass display case, until she decisively pointed out two iced strawberry cupcakes, a rainbow sprinkled doughnut and a chocolate muffin. “Just wrap those up for me and I’ll be on my way!”

The bell above the door jingled merrily as Poppy aimed to exit, when the baker called out to her. “Good luck with your boyfriend, sweetheart!”

Poppy blinked, buffering to a halt. “W-wha..? O-oh, you think-? Oh, no, Branch isn’t my boyfriend but I _do_ have one! His name’s Creek and he’s actually one of the sweetest, nicest people on this earth. So, just yesterday he-“ She didn’t get to finish her anecdote as, after a collective groan, the Bergen nearest to her placed a hand on her head, turned her a full one eighty degrees and shoved her through the door.

Poppy stood rooted to the spot for a moment, the little paper bag clasped between her fingers, debating (totally hypothetically) whether or not anyone at the newsagents would listen to her story. Probably not. Last week, they whacked her with a balled up magazine, like she was a disobedient dog who wouldn’t stop yapping. After chewing on her chances for a lengthy minute, she threw away the notion and began trooping down the city, her baked goods swinging in her hand, an intended destination in mind for once.

Wednesdays were not usually this open for time wasting but class had been cancelled again. She was almost certain that her professor just had an odd fixation with getting plastered on Tuesday nights. Oh, well. To each their own.

With the boundless enthusiasm mirroring that of the children scampering past, Poppy strolled through the entrance of Captain Starfunkles Roller Rink and Arcade.

Branch was right. This place was absolutely booming with bustling activity. Sticky fingered children, pizza faced (in both sense of the term) teenagers and flustered parents clinging to hyperactive toddlers. An earworm of a pop inspired pizza jingled blasted at high volume and from somewhere in the crowd, she could hear a group sugar fuelled kids screaming along to the nonsensical lyrics. Disco lights glowed, arcade screens flashed, buttons pewed, wheels rolled, adults prayed to make it out alive. Captain Starfunkles was complete and utter chaos.

Poppy loved it.

_Now that we’ve seen the spectacle, on to the next issue. Find the nerd._

The inconvenient thing about Bergens was, well, their height. When compared to Troll Town locals who were stereotypically thought of to be quite small, Bergens were considered giants. The problem with this stereotype in particular, was that neither Branch nor Poppy nor any of the Snack Pack (Smidge especially) could prove it incorrect. They had yet to meet a grown Bergen that was shorter than them.

Locating Branch was certainly going to be difficult when dealing with a swarm of Bergens who stretched high above the both of them. Luckily, Poppy was remarkably skilled in wriggling through crowds. Oh, the number of times Branch had tried and failed to ditch her on a busy city street. The fool.

“But I taste _delicious_.”

Hearing the rather questionable selection of words spoken by what sounded like a child, Poppy sidetracked. She found the source quickly enough, a chubby, stricken looking little boy, who had appeared to have just licked his own hand. He sat amongst a little gang on the bench by the rink, having their skates fastened by a familiar staff worker.

“I told you guys, Bergens don’t eat Trolls. It’s a dumb rumour, probably made up by a dumb kid.” Branch explained patiently, unperturbed by the littlest child of the bunch who had adjusted herself around his neck like a clingy koala. “Bergens are people, they eat people food. I dunno ‘bout you but if I were a Bergen, I’d rather eat pizza than some kids in roller skates.” He lifted the boy’s foot. “Look at these wheels, they’d get stuck in my teeth!”

The kids giggled at the thought, expect for one of the girls who still looked sceptical. “But how come they never smile or laugh or do nothin’ like that? They’re all mean and pouty, they don’t seem like friends at all.”

Branch’s expression softened. “Not all Bergens are bad guys.” He began, moving on to tie up her laces. “They can be good people, they’re just…kinda grumpy. I mean, that’s not all bad. There’s been grumpy Trolls too.”

“Grumpy Trolls aren’t real.” Piped up the kid on his back.

Branch glanced back at her with a smirk. “Well, Daisy. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.” He suddenly seized the girl by the sides and flipped her over to his eye level. _“It is I who is the grumpy Troll!”_   He growled in a voice far too silly to be menacing, causing a shriek of laugher.

_“Why do you laugh, children?”_

It grew uproarious.

_“I am the grumpy Troll and you will respect me!”_

Poppy, peeping out from behind a shelf of roller skates, had to stifle her sniggering with her hand. This was undoubtedly one of the sweetest things she had ever been exposed to.

Branch continued the grumpy Troll charade until he too, was forced to crack a smile. “Now,” He lightly bounced the child in his arms to get her attention. “Are you gonna let me put you down so I can get your skates on?”

Daisy, still giggling, poked her tongue out and gifted Branch with a raspberry.

Branch respectively returned the gesture. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

After all the kids were laced up, he ushered them out to the rink.

“Branch, you gotta watch me!”

“No, no watch me this time!”

“Promise you’ll watch!”

“Guys, guys. We’ve been over this. I’m gonna watch all of you.” Branch assured them, tousling the nearest head. “You really think I wanna miss out on this? I gotta see the roller skating champs in training.”

Enthused with their praise, the children rolled clumsily out into the rink and clinging to each others’ hands, made attempts to stay balanced and glide smoothly.

Poppy took this opportunity to make her appearance and crept stealthily over to her oblivious housemate, before stopping dead in her tracks.

Branch was leaning over the rink, his elbows resting on the railings and from where Poppy was standing, she was given a side portrait perspective. He was doing exactly what he promised, watching attentively and waving every so often as they called out his name. Somewhere along the way, his usually stoic expression had morphed into a warm glowing smile.

It wasn’t like Poppy had never seen Branch smile. With the amount of sarcasm that boy possessed, it was impossible to restrain himself from smirking at his own snarky responses. But this was definitely something different. A different kind of smile, a different kind of Branch, a different kind of emotion that rose from witnessing it. Poppy inhaled suddenly, having realizing that she had stopped breathing for quite a few seconds.

_What were we doing again?_

Her grin grew as she recalled her intentions and tiptoed across the room, coming to a stop right behind her prey. “That was sooo cute!” She squealed.

Branch nearly fell face first into the roller rink, letting out a strangled “MOTHERFU-“ before regaining his composure. Just barely. He whipped around to shoot her with a glare. “You’re gonna get me fired for yelling obscenities in the work place!”

Poppy laughed, making herself comfortable against the rink. “Like that would ever happen. From what I’ve seen, you’ve gotta be one of their best employees.”

“Half of the customers are afraid of me.” He replied dryly.

“Not the munchkins! They love you!”

Branch flushed. “Those kids haven’t left me alone since they started coming here.”

“You love them.”

“I’m losing my hair because of them!”

“You love them.”

“I _don’t_ love them!”

“Branch, look!” Daisy yelled. She had gotten the hang of skating without anyone’s support and was gliding with an amateur grace.

Branch grinned, extending a thumbs up in her direction, much to her delight.

Poppy snorted.

“Not one word.”

“Okay, a question instead.”

He groaned. “What?”

“Have you filled out the adoption forms yet?”

“What are you even doing here?” He cried, throwing his arms out in exasperation.

“When were you gonna take them to meet their aunt Poppy?”

“What’s in the bag?”

“Are you sure you’re ready to be a father?”

“You aren’t answering any of my questions!”

“Neither are you!”

The two young adults had a momentary staring contest (which Poppy won) before Branch sighed, defeated. “The kids are attached to me ‘cause I’m the only Troll they’ve met in this town so far.”

“Yeah, they don’t look much like Bergens.” Poppy commented, looking out at the kids and popping a grin at the giddiness of their uncoordinated skating.

“They’re siblings, their mom got transferred here recently and they won’t make any friends at their new school. Some idiot back at Troll Town Elementary told them Bergens eat Trolls so now they’re scared shitless.”

Poppy huffed. “I really need to throw some kinda…awareness rally or somethin’ ‘cause these stereotypes are either offensive or just plain weird.”

“No kidding. You want to tell me what you’re doing here now?” Branch asked, tugging off his uniform cap. “My shift’s over, so I’m gonna be leaving.”

“Yeeeeah, I wasn’t too sure when you were finished up so I just showed up anyway. Brought you a muffin!” She chirped, holding up the paper bag.

Branch examined it warily. “Chocolate?”

She gave him a look. “What else?”

“Sold.” He took the bag, headed over to a low circular counter where she assumed he rented out skates and shoved his ridiculous hat into his backpack. “So any last minute stops you got to make on the way home or….Poppy…?” Branch glanced up. “Poppy!”

“What?” Poppy snapped back to attention. “Sorry, sorry, got kinda distracted by like….everything!” She gestured wildly to the multiple arcade games and technicolor lights. “This place is awesome, why do you hate it so much?”

“Do you…want to stay?” Branch questioned, leaning over the counter as if to study her shift of expression.

Poppy grimaced, bouncing a tad anxiously. “I know you’re always really tired after work so I know you just wanna go home and rest…”

“You totally want to stay, don’t you?”

She nodded, trying not to look overtly pleading although her face betrayed her, as always.

Surprisingly, Branch smiled. “There _is_ a perk of working here though it kind of goes to waste with me.” He said, reaching under the counter and with his grin widening at her little gasp, rattled a baggie full of game tokens before her very eyes. “But you might get some use out of it.”

* * *

Both of the housemates learned something that day. Branch learned that Poppy was an unbeatable and rather threatening master of Dance Dance Revolution. Poppy learned that Branch could get dangerously addicted to claw machine games. It’s not like he even wanted the plushies, he handed them over to her without a second thought. He just appeared to have an odd obsession with keeping his dignity in the presence of the inanimate metal box.

_Am I still considered the eccentric one here?_

“You’re gonna use up all our tokens.”

“You wanted the dolphin, you’re getting the dolphin.”

“I just said the dolphin was cute.”

“You’re getting the goddamn dolphin if it kills me.”

One thing was for certain. These new plush friends were going to be treated as plush royalty, considering the Hell Branch went through to get them.

His laser focus on the claw was suddenly shattered by a desperate cry of “BRANCH” followed by the sound of angry Bergens being bulldozed past and knocked to the floor. The cause of the commotion stumbled to a halt and glanced back at the commotion she had caused. “Oh..oh..uh..uh, I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry.” She repeated in a whispery voice as she scuttled over to Branch.

“Bridget.” He said patiently. “We talked about this. You don’t need my help anymore.”

“I do, I do.” Bridget insisted, the pig tailed Bergen girl anxiously wringing her hands. “I just…um…the way he looked at me. It was like…I dunno if he’s interested anymore, I just gotta say something pretty again so please…” She begged, clasping hold of his forearm. “Please, please, pleeeeease.”

Branch glanced at Poppy nervously. “Bridget, now is-uh, now’s not a good time.”

Bridget drank in the sight of the two of them, quickly formulating her own conclusion. “You’re on a date too?”

“No!” They snapped unanimously.

“Ooh, okay, touchy.”

“Bridget, if this was any other day-“

“Branch, please. I won’t ask you again, I promise but please…I..I….I want him to love me!” She wailed, plump teardrops welling up in her eyes.

“Alright, alright!” Branch was frantic. “I’ll help just….” His hands lowered to fidget with the hem of his jacket. “You got your notepad on you?”

Bridget nodded eagerly, swiftly drying her tears and whipping out a tiny periwinkle pink book and pen. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Poppy’s gaze snapped between the two, mystified at whatever was going on.

Branch had tightened his lips, eyes firmly set on the polka dotted carpet, a rush of blood spreading up his neck. “Your eyes,” He mumbled.

Out of the corner of her eye, Poppy could see Bridget scribbling the words down.

She heard a defeated sigh coming from the bowed head. “They’re like two pools so deep, I fear if I dive in….I might never come up for air."

_What is happening? What is happening? What is happening? What is happening?_

Poppy let her bottom lip fall in shock.

“never….come out….for air…” Bridget mouthed, as she wrote.

Branch continued, as if he was unaware that Poppy was about to spontaneously combust. “And your smile. “ His head rose slightly, their eyes locking for a particularly long millisecond before his gaze retreated again. “The sun itself turns jealous and refuses to come out from behind the clouds, knowing it cannot shine half as bright.”

This was weird. This was so, so weird but through the seven levels of absolute astonishment, Poppy found a beam forming on her face, because she was right! After all these years, Branch could still write poetry and it was beautiful and delicate and amazing and Poppy felt giddy just thinking about it. She couldn’t really muster up any sensible words right now though.

“He really does have a nice smile.” Bridget sighed, holding the notepad lovingly.

“You should tell him.” Branch stated quietly.

“I’m already telling him, I got it all written down.”

“No, I mean….you should tell him with your own words. People like to hear they have a nice smile and the more genuine it sounds, the better.”

Bridget worried the pad between her fingers. “I need to use your words this time, Branch. Mine are never any good. They’re all messy and stupid. If I want him to love me, I gotta sound good.” She glanced over her shoulder worriedly. “I-I gotta go, I told him I was in the bathroom and I….” She trailed off, raising a hand to wave. “Bye.” She turned to Poppy. “Nice to meet you, bye.” And with as much clumsiness as she came, Bridget was gone.

They were alone again and any light hearted plush dolphin orientated conversation was long dead. She wasn’t entirely sure if this was awkward or not. Branch was quiet by nature so they often dealt with periods of silence but somehow, this was different. Poppy wondered if Branch felt it too or if this was all one sided brought on by her steadily increasing heartbeat.

“So…” Branch attempted, after a couple of seconds. “I’m pretty good at bullshitting generic poetry stuff. I mean, I read a lot of F.B Blue poetry. Not that I actually buy it, it’s just that parents keep leaving their magazines on the benches after they leave and I don’t really have a lot of stuff to do on my breaks and hey, if you read one poem, you read ‘em all. He’s not exactly too great with originality so it’s easy enough to-”

“That was so pretty.” Said Poppy breathlessly, more to herself than him.

“U-uh, yeah. Yeah. As I said, kind of picked it up from F.B without really meaning to.”

“Bullshit.” She hushed Branch who had taken up the annoying habit of dramatically gasping every time she cursed. “You’ve always been able to do that. You’re talented, aren’t you?”

Poppy briefly wondered how much blood had rushed to Branch’s head today alone.

“I can do the basics.” He shrugged. “Hey, so I hope Bridget does okay on her date. Have I told you about Bridget?”

She shook her head, knowing fully well that Branch was trying to change the subject but deciding to roll with the change. She was supposed to be teasing him over this, not growing pinker by the minute the longer they discussed it. Why did this feel so intense?

“Okay, so c’mere,” Branch strolled back towards his counter, beckoning her to follow. “So, I was working my shift like always, right? And this Bergen girl just comes over. I’m trying to ask if she needs help and she just collapses on the counter, full out sobbing. Oh, and she was wearing this.” Branch protruded a long, tangled rainbow wig from one of the shelves.

Poppy’s eyes widened. “Well, she’s got style.”

“Style? I thought someone had hired her for the kid’s birthday party down at the rink. So anyway, she’s hysterical, I’m trying to calm her down and she’s begging to hide under the counter and stay there for the rest of the day.”

“Why? What was wrong with her?”

“She was just really nervous about her date. I mean, she had been in love with the guy for months and had only just started talking to him online. Oh yeah, she made a fake profile, under a new name, and her picture was just her wearing this stupid wig and she had made herself believe that the wig and this weird 60’s jumpsuit was some secret alter ego and she was acting like she was superman and….it was just her. In a wig. Like there was this big reveal where she took the wig off and told him her real name was Bridget and he was just like ‘cool.’ It was kind of the stupidest thing I ever saw.”

Poppy quirked an eyebrow. “So, when did she start asking you for poetry?”

Branch suddenly became very interested in rummaging around in his backpack, as he answered. “So she was crying, I was trying to calm her down and for some idiotic reason…I-I’m still kicking myself,” He sighed. “I told her I’d help her and it kind of led to poetry. She just felt a lot more confident when she used my words.”

“Soo...her dates are all scripted? Does she say anything for herself?”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Branch’s lips twitched in a tiny smile. “She’s run out of my material before and they kept talking. I’ve seen the two of them talk, I’ve seen them skate. That guy loves Bridget, no matter what she does, or says. She’ll figure that out eventually. Just ‘cause she doesn’t think too much of herself now, doesn’t mean she always will.”

“Sounds familiar” Poppy said quietly.

Branch scoffed. “Shut up.”

“Finally,” A voice crept up from behind them. “Go out for a day of fun, eh Poppy?”

She felt a familiar hand snake around her waist. “Oh, uh, hi!” She said, unable to mask her bewilderment. “How….how did you find me?”

Creek smiled pleasantly, holding up his phone. “It’s a tracker. Brilliant app. I highly recommend it.”

Poppy ignored Branch trying to subtly nudge her. “Wow, that-that sounds pretty handy. Did you uh, put that on my phone? I don’t remember getting it.”

He nodded. “I connected our phones that night you had a little too much to drink. The night we kissed for the first time, to jog your memory.”

Branch stopped nudging her.

“I remember just thinking ‘What if there was an emergency? What if our beloved Poppy were to get lost or go missing?’ I just needed to be prepared, you see. I’m sorry if it comes across as a bit odd. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Aww, no, no. Don’t think that.” Poppy let her arm slide over Creek’s shoulder and pulled him into a one armed hug. He always had her best intentions at heart.

“You could have just called her instead of showing up.” Said Branch curtly.

“Ahh, but where’s the surprise in that?” Creek shrugged. “I felt like being a little spontaneous today. Anyway, I see you two have…become more friendly? I’m glad you managed to work your little issue out, whatever it was.”

“No thanks to you.”

Poppy lightly whacked Branch on the forearm.

“Creek, Creek! Hey, Creek!”

“Gristle!” Poppy exclaimed, delighted as the friendly Bergen came galloping towards them, arms linked with a timid Bridget. “Oh my God, are you Bridget’s date?”

“Yeah, oh my God, do you know Bridget?” He responded just as excitedly. Before Poppy could answer, he launched into a spiel of her praises.

“-And talk about passionate. Like this girl has an appetite that goes beyond even mine. I tried to grab a slice of pizza and do you know what happened? I nearly lost my hand! She is fantastic-“

“Gristle.” Creek raised his voice to be heard over his friend’s gushing. “I’m delighted that you have a lady friend of your own. Would you like to join Poppy and I, we’re actually going out to Chef’s again tonight.”

“We are?”

He squeezed her waist slightly. “Well, I have a table booked. It’s part of the surprise. Of course, if you’d rather spend your night with someone else-“

“No, no, no. That’s fine, I’d love to.” Poppy rushed, noticing the way Creek’s head dipped in disappointment at the thought of his girlfriend cancelling on him. She would hate to upset him.

“Perfect.”

A solitary phone rang and all five hands jumped to their pockets. It was Creek’s. He lifted the phone up to read the name and Poppy heard the slightest gasp that barely passed his lips. She took a peek at the contact.

_Mum._

As if it were water clasped in cupped hands, all of Creek’s serenity trickled away in seconds and he glanced around impatiently for a silent area. “A-ah e-excuse me, everyone. I need to….I really need to take this.” He couldn’t leave fast enough, his fumbling fingers already swiping across the screen once he was a few steps away. “Yes, yes. I’m here, I’m here. Don’t hang up. I’m going outside. Just stay there!”

“Isssss he okay?” Asked Gristle cautiously.

“I think so?” replied Poppy. “All I know for sure is that Creek’s mom keeps missing his calls.”

Gristle and Bridget bid several farewells before they departed, promising to see Poppy later while Gristle simultaneously introduced himself to Branch, who had iced over completely.

“Do you wanna come out to dinner with us?” She implored, once the two of them were alone again.

He shook his head. “Nah it’s fine. Had a long day. I could really use some quiet. Have fun.”

“Yeah, yeah. I will.”

_Whoo, things are getting awkward again._

“Damn, didn’t even get the chance to skate.” Poppy commented, gazing out over the rink. “Maybe next time I’m here.”

“To Hell with that!” Branch suddenly snapped, still looking irritated from his encounter with Creek. “You want to skate, you should go skate. C’mon I’ll hook you up with some free shoes. You still got a few minutes left.”

Poppy chewed on her lip, considering her options. “Okay then, I’ll skate…”

“Great.” Branch was already sorting through footwear. “What are you, a five, six?”

“If you skate with me.”

His head shot up. “What?”

Poppy grinned, regaining some playfulness. “I am requesting, that you, Branch, be my skating associate.”

“The fuck is a skating associate?” And Branch still had his snark. Everything was the way it should be.

“My skating buddy, to put it in terms you’d understand.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

* * *

Branch stomped out into the rink, his body reliant on the railing. “I hope you’re happy.” He deadpanned.

Poppy rolled towards him, offering her hands. “Very.”

He scrutinized her open palms with disdain and rejected her preposition by turning away, making an effort to break free of the rail and skate freely. Within seconds, one leg was sliding farther than the other and Branch seized hold of the first thing that could support him, which happened to be Poppy’s outstretched hands.

“Hi there!” She chirped as he straightened himself. “Are you ready for your first skating lesson?”

“Don’t you dare let go of my hands.”

Well. That was a sentence she never expected Branch to say.

“Don’t worry, you nerd. You’re gonna be fine. C’mon.” She tugged him along the floor, directing him to be less stiff in his legs. “You just gotta be…loose but still forceful, y’know?”

“No, I have no idea what you mean!” Branch cried, glancing downwards every few seconds.

“Stop lookin’ at the floor and pay attention to your teacher.”

“But I don’t understand my teacher!”

Poppy groaned. “Branch calm down, I’m not gonna let you fall, we just gotta...” His hands suddenly tightened around hers and it was then and there, that she took the liberty of noticing those hands.

They were big and wide, peculiar for such a short guy although they seemed smaller from a distance. From the number of hours he had spent working, it was to be expected that they were thick skinned and calloused though she still noted every bump and rough patch like she was analysing details on a renaissance painting. They were warm and dampened with sweat, not something anyone else would expect from such a chilly person but Poppy felt it fit just right. Branch was a lot of things but he was a kind, anxious nerd beneath his other identities.

“We’ve got to what?!”

Poppy snapped back to their current reality. “W-wha?”

“We’ve got to what?!” Branch shouted urgently, startling Poppy into frantic thinking.

“Oh-oh-oh, we gotta, uh….we gotta…” His grip on her hands tightened.

_Fucking stop that! I’m trying to think!_

She fell.

Hurtling backwards in an accident caused by fumbling thoughts.

Branch, who’s reflexes were excellent, bless him, lunged himself at her, slipping his palm behind her head as they both smashed against the hard wooden floor.

For a moment, they just lay there, Branch with his face pressed against her shoulder, having expected this kind of epic failure while Poppy just appreciated the body heat.

“What happened?” He muttered. “Did you just zone out while we were skating?”

“Brain malfunctions, my man. They happen to the best of us.”

Branch cracked a smile. “Yeah, guess I can understand that. Happens to me all the time.”

Poppy didn’t reply immediately, instead opting to take in every feature of Branch’s face. She was almost certain she saw a dimple, it was about as elusive as a wild animal. “Hey, remember what you said to Bridget?”

Branch looked up curiously, appearing to suddenly notice their intimate position, judging by the flicker of his eyes and the darkening of his cheeks. He smoothed his expression into neutrality, as if deciding not to draw attention to the situation. _Wise move, Branch_. “I said a lot of things to Bridget.”

“I like your smile.” She uttered.

Branch’s only response was his widening eyes and the wobble of his bottom lip. It seemed that he couldn’t talk.

Poppy giggled. “Aww, c’mon, Branch. You said that people get all happy when you tell ‘em you like their smile. Where’s my happy Branch at?”

He pulled himself off her body and into a sitting position, as if he needed to get a look at this bullshit spilling spectacle from a distance. After a moment of gazing at her in shock, he dissolved into a weak laugh. “You’re a fucking lunatic. We nearly got our skulls cracked, we could have died and _this_ ” He pointed his forefingers to his lips which he stretched into an exaggeratedly large grin “is what you think about”.

“Yep.” Poppy said with finality.

He sighed, extending a hand to help her sit up, which she took gratefully. “Okay, fine. I like your smile too.”

Poppy beamed, ignoring the roses that bloomed across her cheeks. “Good, ‘cause you’re gonna see plenty.”

“Oh, I do hope so.” A voice said silkily from above.

Both of them scrambled to their feet, instinctively clinging to each other in an effort to keep their balance.

_Creek. I love Creek. Creek’s my boyfriend. Creek’s a great boyfriend. Did I mention I love Creek?_

Creek was smiling that easy smile. Poppy should tell him she liked his smile too. Maybe that would make things more even.

Once they had exited the rink, she ripped off her skates and tackled Creek in a tight hug before forcefully pressing their lips together.

_I’m a bad girlfriend, I’m a bad girlfriend, I’m a bad girlfriend._

Creek was understandably confused but didn’t question the sudden bout of affection that Poppy had been holding back on for days.

She kept her eyes sealed shut, not daring to glance at Branch who probably looked merely irritated by the blatant PDA in his place of work.

“I love you.” Poppy whispered.

“I know.” He said soothingly, rubbing her back, as if sensing that something was off. “Why don’t we stop by my place for some tea and then we’ll go meet Gristle and Bridget.”

“Yeah, yeah. That sounds good.”

He had coiled her again and she looked over her shoulder to Branch, who had already wandered away, vigorously shoving the roller skates back in their shelves, a pile of plushies overflowing from his backpack.

“I’ll see ya later tonight!” She called out, as Creek led her away.

“Yeah. Later.” He responded sharply, not looking up.

Poppy didn’t know much about that type of reaction but she knew damn well that Branch was going to make sure to be in bed before she came home.

By the time they reached Bergen Town Bridge, Creek was explaining the spiritual energy of his yoga class but Poppy was having trouble concentrating. Her mind strayed to the texture of hands, to the sound of a voice, to the warmth of a smile, none of which came from her boyfriend.

“I love you.” She said again, wondering if she could say this to Creek a million times and still feel guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOKIT THIS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAART:
> 
>  [m'boi's havin a breakdown](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/156145015253)


	10. Chapter 10

_Fuck it._

It was a single solitary thought that portrayed such a strong emotion.

Face still pressed against the pillow, Branch’s blind hand felt around his bedside locker for his obnoxiously beeping phone. Once located, he silenced the alarm, set the stupid device down and rolled the fuck over. He could afford to miss one class.

It wasn’t like Branch intended to stay up so late but shit happens. At around ten, he was unfortunate enough to halfheartedly ponder the age old internet question ‘Was Britney Spears Cloned?’ From there, he came across several reddit threads, theory websites, youtube videos and let’s not forget the hour long cloning documentary.

It was an educational night, to say the least. Branch learned that there were some extremely stupid people on this planet…and he may or may not be one of them.

He didn’t rise for another hour and wouldn’t have at all if it weren’t for his bladder. Stumbling down the hallway with stiff legs, he passed Poppy’s room and stopped as he caught a flash of pink hair out of the corner of his eye.

Humming along to that song he recalled her blasting non stop last night, she was busying herself with packing up a glittery pink duffel bag, only glancing up when she felt Branch’s stare. She cocked her head quizzically. “Why aren’t you in class?”

“Slept in.” He shrugged. “Why aren’t you in class?”

“Creek signed me up for yoga.”

“Why isn’t Creek in class?”

“Duh, he’s got yoga to teach!”

“Okay, is anyone in class?”

Poppy chuckled, shoving a folded mat into her bag and plucking up a poster from her dressing table. “Hey, so since you’re here...I gotta ask you something.”

Branch groaned. “For the last time, I’m not doing a cover of Cyndi Lauper, stop asking.”

“Not that, ya grump. However, you _did_ say you could do the song better than her and I totally believe you and all but I still kinda wanna hear it just ‘cause-“

“Okay, what’s the question?”

“Right, right…” Poppy leapt into explanation as she thrust the poster into his face, blinding him with a gang of candy coloured beehive haircuts. “So, you know Guy Diamond, right? You know he’s a drama queen extraordinaire and has been putting on plays since like preschool?”

“Yeah, I was a stagehand once in middle school.” Branch replied, pushing the poster down so he could see. He blinked, his vision still spotted with rainbows. “He threw a tantrum because we didn’t have the budget to auto-tune his voice.”

“Oh, that was a long time ago, he’s matured.” Poppy waved her hand nonchalantly. “Anyway! He’s got the lead role in Hairspray and we’re all gonna go cheer him on this Saturday then go get drinks and I was thinking that you should totally come with us. He’s gonna be amazing and I know you don’t wanna miss it.”

_I wanna miss it._

Branch pretended to briefly consider the offer for a moment. “No.”

Poppy pouted, as if his answer was _so_ unexpected. “But whyyy nooot?” She whined, the poster drooping in her hands.

“Poppy, I barely know Guy Diamond.”

“That’s a lie, he’s your friend!”

“No, he’s _your_ friend.” Branch jabbed a finger in her direction.

Poppy held up one of her own with twice the vitality, stubbing his chest in the process.

_Okay, ow._

“Nuh uh, don’t play that game on me. You’ve known Guy Diamond since you were little.”

“I’ve known all you guys since I was little. That doesn’t really make us friends…anymore.”

“You’ve known me since we were kids and I’m your friend.”

“Yeah but…” Branch scratched his cheek. How to explain the difficulty with people to the hyperactive extrovert that would befriend bugs if they sat still long enough? “That’s different. I talk to you every day and I know stuff about you. I don’t know shit about those guys and I know they don’t really care about knowing me."

“Don’t call them ‘Those Guys’, Branch.” Said Poppy, exasperated as she zipped up her bag. “They’re the Snack Pack, we’ve been over this. Call them the Snack Pack.”

“No.” Branch knotted his arms in defiance.

“But now’s the perfect time to get to know them. I’m sure they wanna be friends with you again, it’s just that you’ve been…” Poppy drummed her fingers uncertainly. “Pushing them away?”

“Yeah, no shit. Last time I met them, I yelled at them for being in our apartment. You really think they want me around?”

Poppy took hold of his crossed arm and shook it slightly. “See, see. Coming on Saturday would be the perfect night to apologize for that. You can’t tell me you don’t miss them. Even the tiniest bit.”

Branch closed his eyes and tipped his head to the ceiling with a sigh, unwilling to look at the girl who was currently badgering him.

_I just got out of bed to pee._

“Alright, listen.” He finally managed, snapping a hand in front of him as if hoping it would aid the sentence to sound more business-like reasonable as opposed to pleadingly pathetic. “I will go to this stupid show and I will clap for Guy Diamond. Then I’ll say sorry to all your friends and I’ll be civil with them and drink something and I’ll do whatever keeps you happy if-NO!”

Branch pressed a finger to her readily parted lips “I know what you’re going to say and I’ll do whatever keeps you happy besides singing Cyndi Lauper. Let me continue.”

Poppy, looking slightly rosy cheeked, deflated. “Fine. Go on.”

“I’ll go out with you guys on Saturday you just have to promise me one thing.”

“And that is?”

“You won’t leave me alone with them. You’ll stay right beside me, okay?”

_Try again, dumbass._

“That is to say!” Branch rose his voice to continue before Poppy could squeeze in a word. “That I don’t want to-to feel forced to talk them just to be polite so…so, uh…I need you to be there. Because I know you’ll never stop talking so they won’t even get a chance to talk to me head on if you’re there so…so, yeah. I need you to stay right next to me the whole night. I’m sorry about the terms and I know you might feel kind of controlled under those circumstances and I get it, alright? You’re Poppy, you’re always wandering off places and if you don’t want to feel restrained, I don’t have to go, I’m just saying that-“

“I talk a lot?” Poppy interrupted, looking bemused before she cracked a smile. “And no. I don’t have any problems with those terms. I like ‘em actually. You don’t gotta worry, buddy. I’ll be there to chit chat for you, right by your side for the whole night.”

Before Branch could revise his actions, he sighed an obviously relieved sigh. “Thanks. I’ll go. Just…don’t expect much.”

“I’m expecting Branch to be the way he always is. That’s enough for me.” She chirped, her dimples popping.

_Why does she need to do that?_

“Oh, one more thing before I leave!” Poppy added, either not noticing Branch’s flush or tactfully ignoring it. Nice girl. “I’m going home to see my Dad on Sunday so….” She swung the packed duffel bag over her shoulder and Branch didn’t notice that he had followed her down the hall until she was standing by the door. “You’re just gonna have to find a way to survive Sunday without me. Think you can do that?”

Branch smirked. “You’re telling me no vacuuming up glitter? No loud stereo music? No skittles in my cereal? How will I live?”

“You’re being sarcastic.” She said dryly.

“You’re picking up on it. I’m proud of you.”

Poppy chuckled, her gaze momentarily flashing to the floor. She looked pretty damn proud of herself too. “But, do you wanna come with me? Like, do you miss Troll Town at all?”

“There’s not really anyone back in Troll Town for me to visit.” Branch muttered, suddenly feeling awkward and not knowing what to do with his hands.

_Why the fuck don’t pajama pants have pockets?_

Poppy nodded slowly, chewing her bottom lip slightly. “I mean, you could stay with me and Dad? We’ve got a lot of stuff planned.”

“Like what?” He inquired, feeling a tad guilty for stalling her departure but then remembering it was Creek she was going to meet. Couldn’t be helped.

Exactly as Branch hoped, she lit up, delving into a list of all the activities that she and her father had scheduled. “-and then we’ll make cookies and then re-watch our home movies and then we’ll play scrabble and then-Oh.” Poppy’s excitable rant halted, her smile dimming as glanced down at her buzzing phone. “Creek’s wondering where I am.”

_He has you bugged, shouldn’t he know?_

“Welp, I guess that’s the cue for me to-“

“Why are you agreeing to yoga again?” Branch blurted out.

Poppy stopped, raising a brow. “Because my boyfriend’s teaching it?” She smirked, raising her knuckles to gently knock at his forehead. “Are you not paying attention?”

Branch made no effort to swat her hand away as he continued. “Yeah but…this isn’t the first time he’s taught a yoga class. Remember last year? You signed up to get his attention-“

“I’ll have you know I had a genuine interest!”

“So you signed up to get his attention, got bored halfway through and couldn’t focus and ended up taking a nap.”

Poppy blinked incredulously. “How do you even know that happened? It’s not like you were part of the class.”

“Who do you think found you and called your Dad to pick you up? Not Creek. He had fucked off. Anyway, you sure you want to pick up yoga again? It’s not like you were really all that interested in it before.”

“Weeeeell….” She hesitated, rolling her shoulders uncomfortably. “I kinda owe it to Creek right now. I haven’t been the best girlfriend lately.”

Branch studied every shift in her expression with intent curiosity. How the Hell does _Poppy_ , of all people, fuck up being a girlfriend? “What did you do?”

“I mean, it’s not like I actively did-“ Poppy mumbled, her eyes set on the floor before she glanced up to meet his gaze. She jumped, looking startled. “It doesn’t matter what I did, alright?! Why do you even feel the need to ask?! All that matters is that I make it up to him by supporting him with his stupid yoga thing. Which-which I will be going to right now! Goodbye, Branch.”

She left, slamming the door in the process.

Branch winced. As if the neighbours hadn’t complained enough.

The situation was unnerving, the tone of the relationship itself set off a few warning bells but the fact of the matter was, Branch had never once seen a remotely impolite exchange between Creek and Poppy. Of course, he had his ‘instincts’ but he was more aware than anyone that the current relationship may have been exaggerating them just a tad.

But there were things he knew for certain. Creek could be manipulative in his own little ways and who better to toy with than Poppy, who worked tirelessly to keep everyone happy? A tracking app. A fucking tracking app. That was creepy. His insistence on keeping her glued to his hip, despite her squirming. That was also creepy. While Branch definitely didn’t consider himself an expert on their dynamic (he tended to wander off whenever the two of them were in close proximity) he was very much aware that something going on between those two wasn’t right.

It would be weird to sit her down and interrogate her on the nature of Creek’s treatment. He didn’t want to pressure her into breaking up with him if she clearly had some mixed feelings on the matter. It was Poppy’s choice and the last thing Branch wanted to do, was feel like he was controlling her.

_Are you going to pee or stand there like an idiot all day?_

The peace that Poppy left behind was fantastic for the first hour. Branch submitted this week’s poem, took a shower, cleaned up the kitchen and stacked all of Poppy’s scrapbooking supplies into the plastic toy box that he bought from a cheap pawn shop. For once, the flat looked somewhat in order. But pacing idly through the living room and listening to the saccharine drone of day time television, Branch grew bored.

He tried burrowing back into his conspiracy hole but somehow, it lost its lustre in the pale light of day. Losing your mind over ridiculous theories was more of a 3am activity.

With his hand cupping his cheek, he scrolled mindlessly through his unopened emails. His long lost Somalian relative was offering him inheritance again, he just needed a credit card number. Branch rolled his eyes and briefly wondered how much it paid to send those mass emails. Not that he was doing too bad with his current job. F.B Blue was earning more income than Troll Town Branch ever had.

As the minutes dragged, he found himself rereading some of the rambling tangents that ‘Lord Glitter Sparkles’ had sent to him and God, Branch would be lying if he said he didn’t find this guy sort of funny.

_'-and it’s just that we have so much in common, you and I. We both work under the same magazine, we both have an affluent vocabulary, we’re both romantics while simultaneously lost tortured souls.'_

In all his time, Branch had never once been referred to as a ‘Lost Tortured Soul.’ When internally describing himself, he preferred the term ‘Sad asshole.’

In a way, even with his insistence towards gloom, Glitter Sparkles reminded him of Poppy. It was the enthusiasm and in all honesty, Branch was slightly curious to what kind of guy this was.

He should have jotted this moment down in the history books somewhere because this was a momentous achievement for the bored, sarcastic recluse. Opening up a new email draft, he began to type.

_To: LordGlitter Sparkles_

_Subject: Are you free today?_

* * *

Bibbly’s was a weird establishment. Branch had never been fond of bars, preferring to drink in solitude lest he say something he shouldn’t under the influence but damn, this place took his dislike to an uncomfortable level.

Adorned along every wall were strings upon strings of bibs, of all sizes, of all colors. Quite frankly, the variety was what alarmed him. He had asked Poppy about the place once during a walk home from class.

“It used to be a bib store.”

“Ohh, like a place for baby supplies?”

He recalled her shaking head. “No, an adult bib store.”

Adult bibs. With bright yellow duckies on them.

_What kind of kink shit is going on here?_

Shuffling around with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, Branch searched for any hint of a man who would actually dub himself Lord Glitter Sparkles. Luckily the place was practically empty. Branch often got nervous in crowds.

“Branch?” A familiar voice questioned from behind. He turned, making eye contact with an equally surprised Bridget. She was nestled in a booth with her green haired boyfriend, fingers intertwined.

“Hi there!” The guy said cheerfully. “I know you! You look a lot different without your hat. You’re that guy who works at the roller rink, Creek’s friend, right?”

Branch flinched. _Creek’s friend_. “Uhhh yeah. That’s me. Hey Bridget, heyyy….okay, I forgot your name.”

“It’s Gristle.” Gristle smiled, slapping the seat beside him. “Come sit with us, we’re just waiting for this guy to show up.”

“Uh, I’m actually expecting my uh….co-worker right now so I should probably sit somewhere-“

“Gristle’s the food critic, Branch. Sit down.” Bridget said casually, not looking up as she took a sip of her glass.

The two boys locked shocked eyes before their gaze snapped to Bridget.

She looked up, oblivious. “What? Oh, I get it, you’re confused. Gristle, Honey. This is Branch. He writes some real pretty words. I figured a while ago that he was probably that sad poet guy.”

Gristle gaped, turning back to face Branch. His eyes scanned him up and down. “You don’t look like a smart guy.” He said bluntly.

“Thank you.” Branch deadpanned. “Can I still sit down?”

Gristle nodded immediately, gesturing to the vacant seat. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Just…wow, I didn’t expect you to be the roller rink kid.”

“I didn’t expect you to be Lord Glitter Sparkles.” Branch replied, settling in. “But now that I know, it makes perfect sense.”

Bridget gasped softly. “You called yourself Lord Glitter Sparkles?” She said, looking touched.

“Of course I did! Inspired by Lady Glitter Sparkles. I felt it was only right.” He clasped her hands, smiling warmly.

“Aww…”

_This was a mistake._

“I’m still here.” Branch cut in, staring pointedly at the couple.

They wrapped up their little affection ritual and politely turned back to him.

“So you’re telling me that you’re that city renowned food critic who can ‘Slice apart restaurants with nothing but his tough but fair reviews.’” Branch filled in his own air quotes.

Gristle was looking particularly smug. “Yeah, that’s actually one of my favourite comments. The paper where they wrote it, it’s framed in my office.”

“So why have you been constantly hanging around in Captain Starfunkles and ordering a shit ton of terrible pizza?”

“Sssh! Ssh! Ssssh!” Gristle hissed, desperately glancing around for any eavesdroppers.

_The place is still empty, dude._

“I was kinda wondering that too.” Bridget commented.

“Okay, if the public were to find out, my credibility would be gone. Gone!” He swished his arms dramatically.

“Yeah but there’s no one-“

“I really like pizza!” Gristle rushed out in a not so quiet whisper. “Like all kinds of pizza, even the greasiest grossest ones. But no one can know. No one can know but….my dearest closest friends.” He gestured around their table with a Creek-like serenity.

Branch looked around, as if one of Gristle’s friends had joined the table without him noticing. “But-but you don’t even know-“

“You are one of my confidants now, Branch. I trust you.” Gristle suddenly reached out and seized his hand. Branch was far too sober for this type of Ho Yay. “Promise me you’ll keep the secret.”

“I-I-okay then. I won’t tell anyone you like pizza.” He shrugged. He would probably forget in an hour anyway. “Just don’t tell anyone I write poetry and we’re good.”

“Deal!” Gristle exclaimed, looking relieved. “But I do gotta wonder…why the secrecy? I tell everyone I know about my critic job. People love me because of it.”

“Well….” Branch drew out an answer in the back of his head, fidgeting with his knuckles as he sat in silence.

“Ohhhhhh….” Came the soft sound of realization.

He looked up to see Bridget, nodding to herself.

“All of his poems are about that one girl and if the girl knew who he was, she’d pick up that he liked her.”

Branch didn’t know if he should be proud of Bridget’s cleverness or not. It sounded like it could be a real nuisance.

“What girl?” Gristle questioned, looking between the two of them curiously.

Bridget tapped her finger against her cheek. “Well I dunno really but if I’d have to guess I’d say Poppy. He was on the date with her last week.”

“We weren’t on a date! I was at work and she just showed up!”

“Poppy?” Gristle’s eyes widened. “You mean Creek’s girlfriend, Poppy?”

Bridget’s hands flew to her mouth in a gasp. “She’s his girlfriend?!”

“We went to dinner with them last week, Sweetie.”

“But I didn’t notice, I was too busy looking at you!”

“Aww, that is so-“

“I’m. Still. Here.” Branch ground out.

The two snapped back to attention instantly, both looking absolutely scandalized at this development.

“So, you’ve been writing poetry about another guy’s girlfriend?” Gristle looked hurt, as if Branch’s actions were personally affecting him.

“Hey, I never said it was Poppy that I was writing about. It could be anyone.”

Both boys jumped as Bridget slammed down her glass. Leaning over the table, she stared Branch down with scrutinization, her dark eyes as unwavering as steel.

_Why didn’t I write a will?_

After a long period of terrifying seconds, she finally broke eye contact, Branch inhaling sharply as she turned as if she had been strangling him. “It’s Poppy.” She stated with a definite nod.

“How the fuck did you do that?!” Branch squeaked.

“How _did_ you do that?” Gristle wondered, awed.

“Don’t matter. Anyway…” Bridget clasped her hands together over the table, although they ended up unwound as she found herself unconsciously fidgeting with her fingers. “This is real serious. You can’t just write about other guys’ girlfriends. That’s-that’s....is it cheating? I dunno but it’s wrong!”

Gristle agreed. “I mean, are you trying to steal her from Creek or something? You shouldn’t do that, man. Creek is a real nice guy"

_Buddy…_

Branch sighed, reaching his hand up to scrub his forehead. “I don’t plan on stealing her, alright? I-I’ve been doing the poetry thing since before they were together and-and it’s all I’ve got! I mean…I was able to write poems about other stuff when I was younger but now it’s just…all I’ve got is Poppy and sad shit. Sometimes both.”

Gristle blinked. “You’ve been writing poems about her back when she was still single but you never told her. That’s kinda pathetic.”

“Thank you, Gristle.”

“No problem!”

“Oh no, no, no Sweetheart.” Bridget whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I think he was being sarcastic.”

“Ohhh…”

“Anyway.” Branch was steadily getting more and more impatient for a drink. “I’m not trying to ruin her relationship, I’m not trying to steal her. I’m just-it’s a problem, alright? It’s a problem I just need to deal with.”

“Awwww…” They both drawled in unison, looking pitiful.

Bridget turned to Gristle. “He loves her!”

Gristle nodded, looking as if he were about to burst into tears “I know! Oh, Branch!"

He was being hugged. Tightly. This day just couldn’t get any better.

“We won’t tell anyone!” Bridget sobbed.

“But we’ll support you through this!” Gristle howled.

“Cool. Uh.” Branch looked between his two envelopers, wriggling uncomfortably. “A drink might make me feel better.”

* * *

He wound up not staying long. Apparently, Bridget had work in the morning and Gristle had a breakfast booked that he needed to critique. Lucky too. Bridget and Gristle did not seem the most sensible people to get drunk with. Branch felt he would wake up on a roof, with no ladder in sight and have no idea how he got there. At the very least, that story would make Poppy laugh.

Unlocking the door, Branch took a moment to stand in the hallway and listen for any trace of sound. The slight rustling from the living room gave away her location immediately.

“Hi.” He greeted, plucking Spongy off her seat on the couch and sitting her on his lap.

After Branch failed in winning Poppy the dolphin, he had returned to the claw machine the next day and brought the damn thing home. She took up permanent residence on their couch, with Poppy insisting that Spongy belonged to both of them. Branch disagreed, claiming he was nowhere near ready to father a dolphin. However, after a few days, he grew attached to the stupid toy. It was theirs now. Fight him.

“Hey there.” She said merrily, knelt over the coffee table and scissoring away at some felt. “Where were you all day?”

“Just bored and wandering around the city.” Branch’s eyebrows furrowed as he glanced down at the colourful pages. “Hey….what’s wrong?”

“Northing’s wrong.” Poppy glued up a pale blue shape and pressed it down on her open book. “Why would anything be wrong?”

“You’re scrapbooking yourself crying.”

Collaged together with felt was a round pink face with a series of teardrop shapes traveling down from the googly eyes, the whole image bathed in glitter.

Poppy pouted down at her work’s betrayal. Branch would have smirked if he wasn’t preoccupied with whatever was troubling her. “Come on up here.”

She obeyed, standing and plopping down on the cushion next to him. “The trip to Troll Town’s cancelled.”

“What? But what about your Dad and all that stuff you had planned? I thought you guys we’re going to…“ He trailed off as he noticed the way her expression drooped as he carried on.

“Yeah, we were gonna.” She managed, a slight croak to her voice as she stared down at her knees. “We were gonna have fun and do all the stuff I said but-but….but I can’t go.” Poppy exhaled in an effort to keep herself together. “Creek says he’s gonna have his restaurant really soon so he had all his Sunday plans cancelled so he could plan out all his menus that day. He asked me if I wanted to help and-“

“Did you tell him no?”

“Well,” She wrung her hands uncertainly. “I told him I was gonna go see Dad and he said that was fine but I noticed how his face looked. He was all disappointed and I could see it but he didn’t want to tell me. And-and I’ve been such a bad girlfriend that I just had to-“

“Why?! Why are you a bad girlfriend?!” Branch demanded, the mere idea that Creek somehow had her thinking that pissing him off more than it should. “All you’ve been doing is going along with every creepy thing he’s done, he should be fucking delighted to have you-“

“It doesn’t matter why!” Poppy snapped, suddenly reddening. “Just…” She looked up at him, her eyes almost pleading. “Just stop asking questions, okay? I’ve been thinking things I shouldn’t be thinking and I’ve felt really bad because all those things that Creek does, he does for me…”

“He does them _to_ you!” Branch snarled. “That guy’s been fucking you over, making you feel guilty for everything, he put a fucking tracking device-“

“It’s for my own safety!” Poppy shouted.

“No it’s not! It’s so that creepy asshole can know where you are at all times, he didn’t even tell you!” Branch’s breath had quickened, his head suddenly pounding with all the things he had thought about Creek in the last month.

Poppy had never been a fan of yelling or intense conversations. She had once cried when they came across a mom screaming at her kid in the street. Branch knew this better than anyone so why the fuck was he the one to always do this?

She spoke lowly, clearly to repress a sob. “You think I should break up with him, don’t you?”

_I want you to break up with him and then punch him in the jaw but that’s more of a wish list than actual relationship advice._

With his elbow resting on his knee, Branch propped a hand to his chin, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “I’m not saying that you should break up with him if you don’t want to.” He said evenly. “I just want you to think. If you think that having a talk with him would improve your relationship, then do that. If you feel like you’re just not happy at all with him then……you know what you got to do. Your happiness is just as important as his and this is your choice.”

There was a brief silence. Branch’s heart hammered persistently. Was she mad at him now?

“I’ll think about it.” Poppy mumbled, clicking her heels together. “No promises but….yeah, I’ll think about it.”

“Oh..” He sighed, relieved. Finally, they were getting somewhere. “Good.”

“Good.” She repeated solemnly.

Silence again. Prior words spoken with vicious tones still hung over their heads. Branch felt the vague atmosphere of tending to the wounded after a battle.

He glanced up cautiously to see her swiping her eyes. His raised voice always seemed to do that. Barely thinking about it, Branch lifted Spongy from his lap and pressed her snout against Poppy’s cheek, puckering his lips to make a tiny kissing sound.

She gave a watery chuckle and gratefully took hold of her plush friend as he offered it, squeezing tightly.

“We should do something.” Said Branch.

Poppy looked up curiously. “Do what?”

“Something. If you can’t go home on Sunday, and we’re going to the play on Saturday, we should do something on Friday. It’s the closest. Me and you. We’ll go out somewhere and we’ll do something. Aaaand I won’t yell at you again, I’m sorry.”

Poppy nodded, her eyes glowing brighter by the second. “Then it’s set. Friday. We’ll do something.” She offered her fist.

Branch bumped it. “It’s a date……out. It’s a day out.”

“A date out?”

“I said a day out, Poppy.”

“You didn’t.”

“I definitely did.”

“I heard date out.”

Branch rapped his knuckles against her forehead. “Poppy, I can’t help it if you’re not even paying attention.”

Poppy laughed.

* * *

“And he can actually be pretty funny when he wants to be. A nice guy too.” Gristle commented casually, swirling his cup of tea.

Bridget nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah, he’s real nice. He made me feel better when I was crying. He also let me use the pretty words to get Gristle to love me.”

“I loved you anyway.” Gristle said fondly, patting her cheek. Not enough people in this world appreciated Bridget. It was a sin.

They had stopped by Creek’s apartment for a quick cup and chat. Creek didn’t mind of course, he always let Gristle stay as long as he liked.

Creek was currently face planted against his kitchen table, his hands behind his head, mumbling the occasional “Uh huh” every so often. Gristle guessed he was tired. Well, that was fine. If his friends stayed long along, Creek was bound to perk up eventually.

“I swear when you first look at a guy like Branch you think-“

“Branch?” Creek raised his head.

Gristle panicked, slapping his hands over his huge mouth. “No, no, no. I wasn’t meant to say that. I was meant to say…uhh…what was his name again?”

“F.B Blue, Honey.” Bridget supplied.

“F.B Blue Honey!” Gristle exclaimed, staring at Creek desperately, hoping that he had miraculously forgotten the name in the last ten seconds. Hey, it was possible.

“Branch is F.B Blue…” Creek said slowly as if still processing the thought.

_Dammit._

Gristle released a strained sound which Bridget quickly soothed by cupping his face.

“You didn’t mean to say it.”

“I didn’t mean to say it!”

“It was an accident.”

“It was an accident!”

Creek was already flipping through a copy of Bergen Magazine, his expression neutral. “Hmm, it’s odd reading these poems from a different perspective. You’d never think Branch was such a romantic.” He mused.

“Yeah but-but…” Gristle clung for any trace of secrets he had left. “I can’t tell you who they’re about!” He blurted out. “That part’s confidential!”

As opposed to a look of disappointment caused by his out of the loop-ness, Creek’s face stretched into a wide smile. “Oh, they’re about someone? He’s not just making it up?”

Gristle folded his arms, grinning smugly. Yes, Creek wanted to know the rest of the secrets but there was no way in Hell Gristle was giving anything else away. “Yup but I’m not telling you who.”

“A sunset smile, a blooming flower in her own right.” Creek read aloud, unperturbed by Gristle’s undoubtedly agonizing taunt.

Gristle pouted. He wanted him to beg. “You’re not gonna ask who it is?”

Creek leaned back in his kitchen chair. “No need, my friend. I think I might have an idea who it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART:
> 
> [OH NO HE'S HOT](http://frootpunch.tumblr.com/post/156605527523<br%20/>)


	11. Chapter 11

It was the little things that she found herself catching.

The week was like molasses, knowingly dragging out the days just to frustrate the two college kids who were both obviously looking forward to their date. Out. Their date out, as Poppy had internally nicknamed the activity.

Branch didn’t spend a lot of time at home that week, insisting that if he wanted to request Friday off, he needed to be working twice as hard right now. Plus, the munchkins had become roller rink regulars and Branch appeared noticeably distressed at the thought of them skating without his supervision.

Branch really needed to stop adopting children without consulting her first. If he were to suddenly bring home a child and expect her to feed them, she would…she would…she would feed them. And love them. And play with them. And buy them toys. And be the best mom ever! Okay, Poppy wanted a kid someday but that was beside the point.

During the free hours that he spent recharging, Poppy would come and sit beside him. He didn’t lock the door anymore, allowing her to knock to admit entrance. Usually he gave her permission. She had cottoned on that Branch grew to be quite sluggish after a day of work related socializing so she remained quiet, for the most part.

Poppy did a lot of thinking in those silent hours, a good portion of her notions ridiculous. At first, she would just watch his gaming progress, clapping her hands together giddily as he overcame levels and wincing, agitated as he got the health knocked out of him. However, once the game’s pattern had become repetitive, her attention strayed elsewhere.

The boy playing the games just happened to be a very pretty boy, a fact that Poppy had always known but never really gave much attention until recently. Her eyes settled contentedly on every shift in his focused expression, until her gaze travelled down to hands fastened around a game controller. Her fingers would twitch, her bracelets would rattle, feeling the urge to reach out and seize the other’s hand.

She wanted to see every range of emotion cross his face as lately, every feature had become so fascinating. The trail of a visible collar bone, the plump of his cheeks, his wide bump of a nose, a crinkling forehead, the sky in his faraway eyes and the swell of his lips wordlessly mumbling his thoughts. Poppy had always considered herself an adequate student but when it came to Branch in their quietest moments, she had never studied anything so intently in her life.

Once her staring habit had begun, it was difficult to cease. Not that Poppy had the will of steel to begin with. She was very much an ‘Eat the last slice of cake’ kind of girl and sitting and watching had brought her a soft kind of happiness that she couldn’t bring herself to reject.

It wasn’t really the type of feeling where her heart would pound. That came afterwards. Branch wasn’t blind and would occasionally catch her gawking, which led to some rather clumsy exchanges.

His voice would crack out a questioning noise, a contagious blush would spread between them and Poppy had to babble out an excuse.

“You have dirt on your face! Just, uh, just lemme-“ She hastily licked her thumb and shoved it at his face as he squirmed, frantically insisting that he could clean it himself.

Poppy accidentally jabbed Branch in the eye during one of these awkward kerfuffles. He had yet to let it go.

“Okay!” Poppy pointed her spoon in Branch’s direction. “It has been two days, how much salt do you have up your-“

“You could have _blinded_ me!” He exclaimed, slamming down his bowl of cereal and hopping on the stool beside her. “Just so you know, I totally would have made you explain what happened at the ER. You’d have to look a medical professional dead in the eye and tell them you’re a lunatic who gauges out her friend’s eyes. Does that sound like a fucking fun time to you, Poppy?”

It was Friday morning. The week had finally rolled over and let them have their day. They just had to get class out of the way and they were off. Poppy was excited. And judging by the bounce of Branch’s knee and his overall morning chattiness, he was too.

She scoffed, swallowing a spoonful of Lucky Charms. “And then the doctor will ask me why this happened and I’ll tell ‘em plain and simple that my friend Branch is a baby who threw a tantrum when I tried to clean his face.”

“I didn’t throw a tantrum!”

“You did!”

“I didn’t!”

“You did!”

It was the type of breakfast where a mother would have to cut between them with a “Kids, stop arguing and eat!” every two minutes but these were young adults. And the only supervision they had was each other. God help them.

“I think Spongy needs to be fed before we go.” Poppy cooed, having wandered over to the couch to retrieve her bag.

Branch groaned, shoving his own belongings into his backpack. “For the last time, Spongy is an inanimate object. She doesn’t need to be-what are you doing?”

“Putting her down?”

“She likes the squashed up cushion, it’s more comfortable. Put her there.”

“Oh riiiiight, right.” She tenderly settled her baby down, tucking one of Branch’s loose hoodies over her like a blanket. “Hey, wait!”

Already heading for the door, Branch turned. “Yeah?”

“We’re still going out today, right? That’s still a thing that’s happening?”

“How could I have possibly forgotten?” He smirked. “It’s not like you bring it up every ten minutes.”

Swinging her bag over her shoulder, Poppy bounced across the room with a buzzing excitement, the clarity of her grin tugging slightly at Branch’s own lip. She seized his arm, hauling the two of them out the door. “Okay, nerd. Time to hurry it up with this class shit so we can go.”

Branch gasped. “Your language is appalling.”

* * *

Dresses were extremely underrated in the fun department.

Poppy spun around her bedroom, hair swishing, head getting fuzzier by the minute, periwinkle blue skirt flaring in a spiral. It was almost nostalgic, drawing her back to her days of pigtails and party frocks. The adults would dote on her, complimenting Peppy on his adorable daughter as she swirled ineptly across the dance floor. The feeling didn’t feel out of place for today either. The giddiness she currently felt, was certainly reminiscent of a child.

Save for a quick shower, Branch had been hauled up in his room ever since they got home. It was odd for Branch. It usually only took him a solid two minutes to throw clothes on and he was out the door. Poppy knocked occasionally with a curious “Are you still alive?” only to be replied to with a grunted out affirmative. The boy was taking his sweet time, apparently.

She wandered the living room impatiently to the soundtrack of her own clicking tongue. In fairness, Poppy had taken longer than usual too. Her make-up had been perfected, her cheeks re-glittered, her entire person accessorized, her hair tied and braided, then re-tied, then brushed, then combed, until she ultimately gave up and left it loose, all while trying to settle her floral headband in a way that didn’t look too lopsided. She was just re-adjusting it in the reflection of a nearby vase when she heard his door click.

Branch emerged from his room, his back straight and without the usual slouch of his neck. Hands were hidden in the pockets of his jacket, a brand new dark green jacket. His jeans were clean and lacked the worn out knees and his face looked as though he had scrubbed the dried skin raw. Hell, even his hair, his matted, greasy, tangled hair had been washed and brushed and somewhat tamed, although the boy was just cursed with unfortunate cowlicks.

“Who the _fuck_ are you?” Poppy blurted out breathlessly, awaiting his inevitable sarcastic gasp. It didn’t come.

His mouth twitched, as if willing himself against broadening his already perfectly crafted smirk. “I’m Branch.” He poked a finger to the top of his head. “But with clean hair.”

She laughed.

He did too.

Then they stopped.

Then they took another moment to look each other up and down, in one of their not so comfortable silent periods.

_Who keeps letting awkward silence happen?_

“Alright so!” Poppy desperately tried to get the sound back to the room. “I’ve been waiting for this day all week.” Swallowing any hint of hesitance, she grabbed his wrist. “C’mon, can’t be goin’ without ya!”

* * *

Once Poppy began rambling away and Branch felt confident enough to snark back, they had gotten their regular circulation of conversation flowing again. Tension still hung but it was a lot easier to ignore when the comments kept shooting themselves back and forth.

Branch had booked tickets to a movie, an animated film of course.

“I figured it would be your thing. Since you look like a walking cartoon character ‘n all.” He said casually as they upped the line of the concession stand.

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” Poppy grinned with a satisfied nod.

Their snacks were, oh boy. Choosing snacks was an experience to say the least. Poppy buzzed around the counter, pointing out tubs of cotton candy, boxes of nachos and popcorn, screaming at the existence of a slushy machine and shovelling a variety of sweets into her confectionary bag. Meanwhile, Branch politely asked the flabbergasted girl at the cash register to add any edibles to the cost as his companion continued to shout them out.

“Are you going to come watch the movie or just stand there crying about candy?”

She hadn’t noticed that Branch had lined up all their snacks, paid for them and had them overflowing from his arms until he called her attention away from the sweet display.

“Can you take some of these? My hands are full.”

Poppy scooped up half the contents, taking a handful of popcorn in the process and showing it in Branch's mouth. “Isn’t movie food like super expensive? I didn’t think you’d really buy all this stuff.” She wondered aloud as they made their way down to their screen.

“Work.” Branch shrugged, his voice muffled by his bulging cheeks. He swallowed. “I have more money now then I’ve had in a while.”

“Working at Starfunkles?”

“Yeah, sure.”

* * *

The movie was awesome! There was a little boy with an eyepatch and he was such a cutie and he had a magic guitar and he made origami come to life when he told stories and Poppy really wanted to take up origami now. But it wasn’t just cupcakes and rainbows, there were these floating witch ladies who were his aunts and they wanted his eye for...for some reason? Oh, oh and there was a monkey who-

“You think the monkey and the giant bug are going to hook up?” Branch whispered, leaning his elbow across the armrest.

“Why would they hook up? They’re a monkey and a bug!” responded Poppy, who kept forgetting her movie whisper.

“It just seems to be where they’re going with this, I don’t know.”

“Branch, are we watching the same movie?”

“Are _we_ watching the same movie? Look at them! That monkey and that bug clearly want to fuck, I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but they want to.”

“Don’t say that about a kid’s movie!” She hissed before quirking her brow as she looked between Branch and the apparent Bug and Monkey story arc. “But how are you so sure?”

“You can just randomly guess that F.B Blue loves someone but you can’t spot this weird bug and monkey romance.”

“You know nothing about romance if you think that’s what’s going on.”

He scoffed. “I’ll have you know I’m passionate about romance.”

“Really? Because I didn’t think with all the times you-“

“C’mon, you were getting so good at this sarcasm thing.”

“Okay, how ‘bout this? If Beetle and Monkey kiss at the end I will give you a dollar.”

“Five dollars.”

“Two dollars!”

“Ten dollars!”

“Okay, five dollars!”

“Nope, you had your chance. Ten dollars!”

“Branch! You can’t just-”

“Excuse me.” Cut in a painfully polite usher shining a light on the two, who had unknowingly delved into a rather loud argument in the middle of a crowded theatre.

Let’s just say, they didn’t get to see the fate of the bug and the monkey.

* * *

“Now.” Poppy began, ripping off a puff of cotton candy as they strolled down the park. “I don’t wanna name names here buuuuuuuut getting kicked out was your fault.”

Branch made an offended noise. “My fault? I wasn’t the one who started screaming bet offers.”

“I was not screaming.”

“You were pretty fucking loud, Poppy.”

“So were you.”

“Only so I could be heard over you. I swear to God, when we get home I’m going to google the movie and if the bug and the monkey kissed, you still have to give me ten dollars.”

“We just got kicked outta the place, the bet is off, ya dummy!”

Branch looked at her with a set scowl and Poppy scrunched up her face in a cheap imitation.

Their stare lasted only a couple of seconds before Branch lost his composure with a reluctant chuckle. “You’re really bad at looking angry.”

“You’re really bad at _staying_ angry.” She retorted through a mouthful of cotton candy. “Sooo what now? We headin’ home?”

Branch drummed his fingers tentatively against his large popcorn tub before shaking his head slowly. “Nah…you know what? We have popcorn now, this is perfect. Come on.” His eyes brightened just a tad as he tugged her by the arm. “You’ll love this.”

He led her through the park, her legs working overtime to keep up with his long strides and dodging for her life after the few times he accidentally caused her to directly collide with a pissed off Bergen’s stomach.

“Alright, tell me this isn’t your shit.” Branch had finally stopped, placing his hand on his hip, looking particularly proud.

She heard them before she saw them, quacking away in familial conversations. Poppy peeked over the edge of the bridge to the water below. “Ducks?” It took her a moment before she squealed. “Ducks!”

“Ducks.” Branch nodded, wandering over to her side and tossing down a handful of popcorn. The duck noises heightened, all of them scrabbling into a feathery pile as the treats were devoured.

Poppy giggled, immediately joining in on the feeding, her gaze drawn to the strange, bumbling little birds.

She didn’t notice for a couple of minutes but once she did, it was difficult to ignore. There was a sound of rushing water, a sound that struck her as uncomfortably familiar. Poppy glanced up from the ducks, curious about the déjà vu this place was causing her. Against the bridge, was a plain wooden bench with a streetlamp that loomed above, unlit in the light of day. She suddenly recalled the texture of someone else’s sandals against her bare feet and an underlining insecurity concerning her vodka breath.

“Ohhhhh….” She drew out slowly, unaware of how quickly her smile had dropped. It wasn’t like it was a bad memory. At least, it wasn’t supposed to be, but the longer she spent in this area, the more her skin crawled and itched, her insides squirming in the weirdest of ways.

She was supposed to be thinking about breaking up with him, wasn’t she?

“What’s wrong?” Branch asked who had stopped throwing popcorn and was ignoring the ducks’ protests.

Poppy wriggled in place. “Not really that anything’s _wrong_ just…..this place makes me feel kinda weird.”

“Why?” Branch looked genuinely curious.

“I’m-I’m pretty sure that this is the place where Creek kissed me.”

“I thought _you_ kissed _him_?”

“Did I? I dunno, Branch. I was really drunk. All I know is someone kissed someone and it happened here and I don’t really know how to feel about it. You wanna head home or-?”

“So, you don’t want to feed the ducks?” Branch’s face fell considerably.

Poppy’s thoughts were suddenly flushed with guilt. “Oh, no, no! We can stay if you really want to, we don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t-“

“Poppy.” He said patiently, setting his popcorn down on the bench. “I don’t care if we feed the ducks or not. I just thought it was something _you’d_ like. But if this this place really makes you feel as weird as it does, it’s fine if we leave.”

The ducks continued to quack and Poppy glanced down at them with a pout. “I really wanna stay and feed the ducks but…”

“You don’t like the way this place makes you feel.”

She nodded.

“Because it makes you think of your kiss with Creek…” He continued thoughtfully.

Another nod.

“Okay, look at the ducks for a minute.”

Poppy did the exact opposite, gazing up at Branch inquisitively. “What?”

“Just,” His hand reached up and gently pushed her face to the side so she could no longer see him. “Just look at the ducks.”

“Okaaaaaay, I’m looking at the ducks. Branch, I know you’re a weirdo and all but you’ve never done-“

Something soft and warm pressed hesitantly against her cheek. And in almost a frozen second, Poppy, with parted lips and eyes like saucers, looked at the goddamn ducks.

Once reality had ceased to shake, she turned to him so fast, she nearly snapped her neck.

They locked gazes and Branch, looking startled, took a hasty step back to widen the space between them. “That was a friend kiss!” He said suddenly. “Remember that time you kissed me and got that stupid lipstick on my face? It-it was one of those.”

Poppy, wondering who’s face was warmer, didn’t even fight it as she felt a nervous beam spread across her features. “And you waited until now to return the favour?”

He tucked his shaking hands back into his jacket pockets. “You like the ducks, right?”

“Yeah?”

“But you don’t like the memory this place makes you think of.”

“Well, it makes me feel not too great.”

“Yeah, so…I-I wasn’t sure if I could really fix that or anything but…I could at least try.” He shrugged, his eyes snapping about uncertainly. “Kissing Creek doesn’t have to be your only memory here.”

Poppy said nothing, a lump building up in her throat and a buzzing feeling in the pit of her stomach. She managed the smallest of laughs just to relieve some adrenaline.

_I wanna kiss him._

No you don’t.

_I wanna kiss him!_

Bad.

_I WANNA FUCKING KISS HIM!!_

Poppy stumbled back a step, frankly overwhelmed with her screaming subconscious. It had never gone half this wild with Creek.

Hug him. That was reasonable enough. It wouldn’t be nearly as awkward either.

With just a brief second to consider her plan, Poppy lunged forward, throwing her arms around Branch. The fatal flaw here was that he couldn’t hug back if he wanted, her tightened arms had bound his pocketed hands right where they were.

Branch must have figured that the tension would heighten if he was remained silent, so he spoke. The problem with speaking without thinking was all he managed was a brainless string of “Oh, uh, okay, um…”

Poppy released him, having realized the error of her ways and still reliving the moment in high definition. She attempted to continue nodding until it was out of her system, sprouting her own thoughtless words as she went. “Huh, yeah, y-yeah, alright…”

“So, uhh.” Branch pointed at the tub of popcorn on the bench. “Ducks…? Or you still thinking about Creek?”

Poppy felt herself exhale as the thought of the little quacking friends pulled her back into a pleasantly eager mood. “Yeah, yeah, ducks! I wanna keep feedin’ em!” Plucking up the tub, leaned out, sprinkled down a few more pieces and the duck anarchy continued.

“So you don’t feel weird in this place anymore?” Branch questioned, settling his elbows over the bridge.

She took a moment to answer, weighing out the two kisses she had experienced here, noting with mixed feelings how the emotion caused by one had so strongly outshined the other. Poppy laughed, as a duck dived head first into the water, his exposed tail waggling for the world to see. “Oh, I still feel pretty weird.” She looked up, smiling earnestly at him. “Just not a bad weird anymore.”

* * *

The popcorn was long gone, the ducks having drifted away as an orange sky was a sign of evening. The two of them were settled on the bench, Poppy’s head having lopped against Branch’s shoulder at some point, fiddling with her phone. He sat with his arms folded, eyes glassy, thoroughly engulfed in his own little world. Their conversations were lazy and murmured and only came between every bout of silence. But they were content nonetheless.

“You think any of them won’t forgive me?” Branch asked.

Poppy gazed up at him. “Who?”

“Your friends.”

“You mean _our_ friends.” She said softly, patting his knee. “And no, I don’t. They’re smart people, Branch, and they’re gonna noticed that you’ve changed.”

“ _I’ve_ changed?” Branch said incredulously.

“You have. Well…just a little change. But that’s all you needed. You’re still Branch, just working your way to be the best version of Branch.”

She felt his shoulder move slightly as he chuckled. She waited for him to say something. Nothing came.

After what felt like a lifetime, he spoke. “Ready to go home?”

“No.”

“Are you seriously telling me you can’t lie around with your phone at home?”

“Yes. Don’t wanna get up.”

“Really, Poppy? Really? You have eaten twice your weight in sugar today and you’re tired?”

She moaned out an affirmation.

The solution was obvious although Poppy was surprised that she had not planned it deliberately. Within minutes, she was on Branch’s back, her arms around his shoulders.

“If you don’t hold on tight, you’ll die and you can’t blame me for that.”

“’Kay.” She yawned.

“Don’t just “Kay” me. This is the pre-safety demonstration. Pay attention!”

“’Kay.”

Branch groaned out a very mild sound, containing barely a hint of aggravation as he began ambling down the park path. “You are extremely annoying.” He said softly.

Poppy propped her chin against his shoulder, tightening her grip in an almost-hug. “Love ya too, bud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART:
> 
>  [Some cute kids!!](https://anyalove16.tumblr.com/post/156817379544<br%20/>)


	12. Chapter 12

_To any adult of Troll Town, she was Ms. Branch. The kindergarten teacher. Polite yet reserved. Friendly but distant and God knows, you couldn’t get through one conversation with her without a lingering trace of sarcasm._

_But she wasn’t Ms. Branch. At least, she didn’t feel like it. The only names she answered to with a genuine smile were ‘Rosiepuff’ and ‘Gramma’. The kids. They were really her only friends these days._

_The little bell ringer had trooped down the hallway to fulfil his duty and by the time he returned, the class had dispersed for recess._

_“Good job.” She smirked, as Branch placed the bell back on her desk, wearing a proud grin. He nodded with a salute._

_Another reason she went by Rosiepuff. Ever since her silly little grandson had been adamant in being addressed by his last name, it made things a tad more confusing than they needed to be._

_Standing by the doorway, she caught hold of his shoulder as he scampered out, his lunchbox tucked under his arm. “Lucky, honey.” She whispered, bending to his eye level. “I have a big job for you.”_

_“Okay, I can do a big job!” Branch said, bouncing eagerly in his spot._

_“Good, you see that boy over there?” She pointed across the room to the child. He had remained in his place after the bell rang, his head ducked over an upside-down coloring book. “He really needs a friend right now. Can I count on you to help him out?”_

_It was mid-March and the boy, who had lived in Troll Town his whole life, had only just been enrolled. While Rosiepuff was not a fan of gossip or rumours, the things she heard about that household were…unsettling. However, if anyone could pull the true colors from a nervous child, her grandson could. Hell, she couldn’t even recognize Poppy as the shy little girl she once was._

_Branch nodded solemnly. He took big jobs very seriously._

_The process of befriending someone was noticeably odd for small children, Rosiepuff noted as she leaned back in her desk. They were like animals. Skittish, curious and made their first attempts with awkward offerings._

_Crouching below the boy’s desk, his tuft of dark cowlicked hair giving away his stealth, Branch rolled a red race car across the surface._

_The boy looked up, his gaze flickering between Branch and the car, his hand uncertain as to whether he should seize it._

_“Hi!” Branch greeted, popping up by his sprightly knees. “Wha’s your name?” A little puff of air escaped through the gap in his teeth._

_“Creek.”_

_Branch cocked his head. “Tha’s a weird name."_

_“I know!” Creek blushed, immediately defensive. “I didn’t pick it.”_

_“My name’s Branch.” He continued, as if he hadn’t just obliviously insulted his classmate._

_“That’s a weird name too.”_

_“I know” Branch shrugged. “But it’s better than my other name. Hey, how come you talk like that?“_

_“Like what?!” Creek appeared noticeably agitated by these questions. “I just talk like I talk, I don’t even-”_

_“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Branch attempted to calm him. “It’s just that you talk kinda like Biggie but he’s my friend so it’s okay. You wanna meet Biggie? You can meet all my friends too. You can even join our club.”_

_“Um,” Creek fiddled with the car in his hands. “What’s a club?”_

_“It’s me and my friends and we do all kinds of stuff. We play pretend and we draw and we share our snacks. It’s called the Snack Pack!”_

_“Snack…pack?”_

_“I came up with it!” Branch declared proudly. “C’mon, Imma show you.” He took the other boy by the hand and led him towards the exit. “You can be friends with us.”_

_Creek came to an abrupt halt and tugged his hand away._

_Branch glanced back, looking puzzled._

_“W-what…um…how do you be friends?” Creek inquired uncertainly._

_“You…” Branch looked stumped. “You uh…. you play! And you help each other and you give each other hugs and…. y’know you’ll get it when we’re friends.”_

_“Are we friends?”_

_Branch gave a definite nod, “Course! We’re friends now. You can keep the car.”_

_Creek glanced down at his hew toy, then up at his new friend. For the first time since he entered the classroom, he smiled._

* * *

Guy Diamond was dazzling. Glimmering, shimmering, sparkling, twinkling…

Poppy scrolled through an online thesaurus on her phone just to construct the perfect compliment for when she inevitably tackled him in a hug once the musical was over.

He was a born performer, electrifying the crowd with high energy, perfect pitch and charisma. The Snack Pack were not surprised but were overwhelmingly proud and often found themselves poking random audience members with a whispered “That’s my friend, I know him!” Biggie was the biggest offender.

After the final number had been belted out, the crowd went uproarious, although the Snack Pack were the loudest of all, determined to be heard.

Guy soaked the applause, twirling around the stage with a plethora of bows and blown kisses.

“Whatcha think?!” Poppy yelled over the noise as they applauded their way through a standing ovation.

Branch shrugged, his rapidly clapping hands a sure sign that he was doing his best to be supportive. “He’s good.” He said approvingly. “Like I expected him to be annoying and all over the place but…yeah, he’s good.”

“Energetic doesn’t always mean annoying.” She commented as the cheering died down.

“You shouldn’t be the person to tell me that.”

Poppy whacked his arm as he snorted.

* * *

They walked as a bright garish gaggle (Branch, in his plain clothing had never stood out more in his life) from the theatre to the nearest bar.

Guy had texted Creek, informing him that he needed extra time to say his goodbyes the cast, remove his stage make-up, reapply usual make-up, maybe fish around the set for some more compliments. Guy Diamond had a lot of things to wrap up and would meet with them in a bit.

Poppy would occasionally hover a little further to the left every time Creek made any movements with his arm and she wasn’t certain if Branch had caught on to this or if he just felt like annoying Creek but that boy was determined. He stomped along the path, wedged firmly between Creek and Poppy, only acknowledging her boyfriend’s additions to the conversations when he wanted something to snark at. She sent Branch a few warning glances but judging by Creek’s easy laugh, he hadn’t let Branch’s attitude bother him.

By the time, they reached the bar, Creek had wandered off to chat with Cooper, much to Branch’s thinly veiled relief.

Poppy remained at his side, their promise of sticking close still planted in her head. “So, when ya gonna say sorry for yelling at them?”

His fingers toyed with the hem of his jacket. “Whenever I get an opening.”

“What about now?”

"They’re-they’re talking now. I don’t want to-"

“Okaaaaay.” Poppy placed a hand on Branch’s back and pushed him towards their closest friend, much to his vocalized terror. “Heeeey, Smidge. How’s your week been?”

The small statured yet rather threatening girl looked up at them, her brow furrowed. “Why is he here?” She asked gruff and blunt, clearly not in the mood for any idle small talk.

Poppy’s smile flickered.

_How are we going to explain in the police report that Branch was murdered by a girl of 4’7 with her bare fists?_

“As a matter of fact, he…” Poppy swallowed. “He has something to say to you. To all of you. But we felt like starting small. Not! Not that you’re-we were just gonna…uh, you’re an understanding person and we just thought…w-we thought uh…welp!” She gave up with a frustrated huff, slapping him on the back. “Branch, just tell her what ya gotta say.”

Branch, looking particularly irritated at Poppy’s lame attempt at explanation, turned to Smidge. “I’m sorry. For calling you annoying. And noisy. And dim-witted. I don’t hate you. I just lost my temper and I’m sorry.”

Smidge, arms still knotted tightly, looked Branch up and down, and then Poppy. Finally, she shrugged, turning. “Fine. I forgive you.”

“You do?” They questioned in unison.

“Yup.” Smidge was already strolling away. She plucked at Cooper’s dangling hand and placed it on her head. He ruffled her hair automatically, his conversation with Creek still ongoing.

It was brief but Poppy managed to catch the disappointment that flashed across Branch’s face.

“She’s still mad at me.”

“You did the best you could.” Poppy attempted, through a sigh. “C’mon, let’s try again.”

Biggie was a lot more understanding and assured Branch with kind words and a soft smile they forgave him for his prior actions. But nonetheless, the caution that laced his tone had not soothed Branch in the slightest.

“Okay, Biggie is totally cool with you now.” She whispered as the two frequently wandered off to the side to discuss their apology game plan.

Branch scoffed. “Yeah he’s not mad at me but…he’s upset. I hurt that giant marshmallow’s feelings and I feel like the worst person on earth right now. Like why the fuck would any heartless monster hurt _Biggie_?”

Poppy smiled despite herself. “That’s the right attitude anyway. At least you won’t be doing it again.”

“Excuse me but I have been standing here for seven seconds. _Where_ are my congratulation hugs?” A testy voice piped up. Guy Diamond was stood by the door, hands on hips, attempting to portray irritation though his face betrayed the smallest of smiles.

The Snack Pack reacted in an instant, immediately dog piling on their glittery friend, screaming incoherent musical reviews.

Creek remained at the side with a light smile, unwilling to be ruffled by the commotion. Finally, once the energy had partly died down, he cleared his throat.

This caught Guy’s attention and without a second thought, he pounced on Creek. Guy Diamond had always been known for enthusiastic hugs while Creek was more of a lazy arm kind of person. But good God, he was hugging him tight tonight.

Guy seemed surprised too, giving him a questioning look as he pulled away. Creek merely shrugged.

Poppy was bouncing at all the enthusiasm but remained in her spot next to Branch. “Guy, my man! Hugs!”

Guy shot towards her like a magnet, nearly hoisting her off the floor as he engulfed her.

Poppy giggled through her praises. “-and you were just so sparkly and glittery and your singing was like fantastic and your dancing was so complicated but like you pulled it off perfectly and-” She continued to chatter away and Guy Diamond listened, absolutely beaming. “And even Branch thought you were great and he never thinks anything is-”

“Branch?” Guy Diamond turned to the silent onlooker, astonished. There was a pause. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing _you_ here.”

The voices of the Snack Pack immediately dropped, all of them watching the exchange with an air of aloofness that caused Branch’s eyes to snap about and fingers to fidget as Poppy glanced down at his hands.

Creek chuckled, strolling nearer to the conversation. “Yes, Branch. I do believe that-”

“Creek, gorgeous. Shut up a minute.” Guy Diamond, still looking at Branch, pushed an absentminded finger in the direction of Creek’s mouth. He then sauntered towards Branch and took him by the arm.

Branch, looking confused and quite frankly, afraid, spluttered out his rehearsed apology. “I’m sorry for yelling at you that time you were in our apartment. I don’t think you’re annoying or stupid or-”

“Oh, that’s fine, that’s fine. All in the past.” Guy assured him with a wave of his hand, still thoroughly inspecting his sleeve. “Branch, this is wonderful. When I first laid eyes on this jacket of yours I thought ‘Oh, just some plain and boring colors’ but I hadn’t even considered the hidden touch. Look at this, guys!” He held up Branch’s elbow to the Snack Pack’s view, revealing a patch of rainbow glitter.

They oohed respectfully, Satin coming forward to look it over herself. Branch now had two people prodding at his person. “It’s subtle.” She observed. “I like it. Very in right now.”

He glanced at Poppy for help, who was doing her best to stifle giggles behind her palm.

“Actually uh. I just accidentally put my elbow on our coffee table back home and Poppy-” Branch gestured to the girl in question, who was absolutely no help and currently bent over in silent laughter. “She, uh, she had made a big scrapbooking mess and…”

“Huh.” Guy Diamond slid his hands into the pockets of tight jeans, looked intrigued. “Does Poppy often leave your apartment in a mess?”

Branch nodded. “All the time.”

“Hey!” Poppy shot up, her face tightening into a childish pout. “I’ll have you know that I regularly pick up after myself once I’m done with- “

“Are you kidding me?!” Branch exclaimed. “I wake up like three mornings out of five, turn on the lights and you have all your stuffed toys lined up all around the kitchen counter. I was afraid they were fucking possessed!”

The Snack Pack laughed.

“They were having a meeting, Branch.” Poppy scoffed, folding her arms. “They were discussing your boring breakfasts and how to liven ‘em up a bit.”

“Was their solution to drop a shit ton of sugar into our scrambled eggs? Because I will say it again, Poppy. That was not a good idea.”

“You did _what_?” Suki cackled, clutching her sides. “Does she always do stuff like that when you guys make breakfast?”

“Yeah! And not just breakfast. Dinner is a fucking nightmare when she cooks it.”

Poppy was doing her best to look annoyed, although cracked a grin once Satin threw an arm around her shoulder and gave an affectionate squeeze.

“I love you, Pops but I worry about your taste buds sometimes.”

“So, who wants drinks?” Guy Diamond inquired over the riotous laughter. “I’ll go up and get them. You guys go sit down.” He gestured to a wide empty booth. “Have any more Poppy stories to entertain them with, Branch?”

Branch smirked, glancing at his ruffled housemate. “Enough to fill a goddamn novel.”

* * *

Poppy had not expected Branch to let her wander from his side so easily but once they sat down at a booth and Smidge challenged him to an arm wrestling match, his nerves had been soothed considerably. She tapped him on the shoulder and asked if it would be alright if she helped Guy Diamond with the drinks. His nodded, the competitive smile never once wavering as he turned back to Smidge.

She popped herself up on the stool next to Guy and patted his platinum hair. “No foolin’ me, Sparkles. I know what you did.”

Guy raised his brow, passing her a drink. “You’re welcome. I don’t think I did anything but I do like praise. Keep it coming.”

“You tried to lighten the mood. Make Branch more comfortable n’ all. It helped. He even let me leave him alone to come over here.”

“Did he ask you to stay close to him?”

“Yep. He said he didn’t want to feel forced into talking to any of you guys but I think he’s finally-”

“Poppy.” Guy Diamond said patiently. “I think Branch felt like he needed you to come here tonight.”

“Nah.” Poppy shook her head dismissively. “He only came because I wouldn’t leave him alone about it. He did want to apologize to you guys a whole lot but I guess he felt he might get all grumpy too easily and-”

“Anxiety.” Guy stated. “I’m almost certain that Branch has some form of anxiety.”

Poppy cocked her head quizzically. “How can you be certain of that?”

“Well, I won’t say I’m _completely_ certain. It wouldn’t be right to just diagnose someone like that. But it does seem to be the case. Nervous with people, nervous with crowds. I only really picked up on it tonight though so I wanted to assure him that we weren’t all scrutinizing him the way he probably thought we were. Get him talking about something he had plenty to say about. You, in this case.”

She took a contemplative sip of her glass, eyes settled on the way the liquid wobbled. “I-I don’t really know any other people with that kinda thing but…. I thought it was way worse than the way Branch acts. Like randomly panicking at weird times, going out in public and…”

“I really don’t think he really has it that severe. Different people express it in different ways.” Guy, placing his drink down, suddenly scratched at his forearm. “I-I actually feel a bit bad. I’m guessing he just lashed out at us in your apartment because he had a bit of an overload. He was overwhelmed and…. God. We laughed at him, didn’t we? It’s no wonder. I am glad he apologized though. He knows how to take responsibility at least.”

“Did you like read a book on this or something?”

He shook his head. “That thing Branch was doing with his fingers is what I noticed. It’s a lot like what my sister always does when she’s anxious.”

“Little Skye?” Poppy questioned, leaning casually over the bar.

Guy Diamond smiled fondly at the name. “Not so little anymore. Just turned fourteen and she’s a future Olympic swimmer. At least that’s what she tells me and I’m not going to doubt her.”

“Hmm…” She hummed. Hearing about a friend back in Troll Town churned at Poppy’s homesickness. She swallowed, pushing down any melancholy thoughts. “So, why do you think Branch never told us? About y’know, the anxiety thing?”

“Probably doesn’t even know.” Guy shrugged. “If I remember right, his only therapy experience was after Rosiepuff’s accident and… that didn’t last long, did it?”

Poppy shook her head. “Temperamental. I’m pretty sure that’s what they said about him. Uncooperative too. He was…. kind of a handful after Rosiepuff. Hey, so, do you think he’ll be alright now though?”

Guy took a long gulp of his drink and glanced over at Branch, who was currently in conversation with Smidge and Cooper, as Satin thoroughly examined his clothes. “He’s fine. The scariest part of tonight was coming and first impressions. But now he’s here, he realizes he’s safe. He’ll be fine. Just…. keep an eye on him just in case.”

Poppy grinned and threw her arms around Guy’s shoulders. “You’re my favourite sparkly wise man friend.”

Guy smiled, showing off his pearly teeth, as he patted her hand. “Yes, I’m amazing. I know this. Don’t ever think otherwise again. Now.” He picked up a few of the glasses that had been lined across the bar. “Help me bring some of these back.”

“Heeeeello.” Came a familiar drawl. Creek snaked his arms around both of their waists.

Poppy noticed that Guy looked just as uncomfortable with this as she was. Odd. These two were best friends after all.

“So, how are some of my favourite people in the world? Good? Good. Alright.” Glancing about apprehensively, Creek burrowed into the side of Guy Diamond’s body as if to shield himself.

From the corner of her eye, Poppy caught a shock of green hair and immediately cried in delight. “Gristle! Bridget! Hi there, we’re here!”

Creek mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like “Goddammit.”

* * *

Branch never thought we would get along with these people. Sure, they were friends as kids but kids weren’t exactly too picky about character. They would play with anyone.

However, once they grew older and Branch became moodier, the Snack Pack understandably didn’t want to be around him. Back then, he hadn’t considered it much of a loss. Back then, he considered them annoying. But now?

“What do you think of the Britney Spears cloning thing?” He asked, keeping his arm still as Cooper scribbled down conspiracies that he was to google when he got home.

Cooper glanced up, eyes wide. “Oh, real. Definitely real.”

Now, he wasn’t so sure if he disliked them at all.

While Poppy had strayed far from his side, he wasn’t nearly as panicked as he assumed he would be. She stayed within range, having dragged Bridget out to the floor and the two were now dancing to the jukebox, Poppy coaxing Bridget into some more outgoing steps.

“You know we could probably make you a new wardrobe or at least take you out shopping for one.” Satin commented idly, her manicured fingertips fiddling at his clothes, ignoring the undignified squeak as she prodded his side. “What’s your favourite color?”

“Blue.”

She gasped. “Oh my God. That’s perfect. It would totally suit you. A nice dark blue blazer. We’ll make it subtle. Subtle seems to be your thing, you’re not really a flashy guy. What do you think, Chen?”

Satin turned to her sister, who was uncharacteristically slouched back, looking petulant.

Chenille, with lipsticked lips tightened, shrugged curtly.

“Cheeeeeen. Talk to meee.” Satin whined.

Chenille countered back at once, as if she had been previously chewing at her tongue. “Just because he said some funny things doesn’t mean he can just become our friend now. He called me stupid. I am not stupid. I’m not getting involved in this conversation.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Branch _did_ say he was sorry for that.” Biggie tried tentatively.

“And he seems pretty cool now.” Added Smidge.

Suki nodded. “Yeah, he was just an idiot who lost his shit is all.”

“Thank you, Suki.” Branch deadpanned.

Suki clicked him with a finger gun.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re stupid, I just…” He trailed off at the sight off her glare.

Chenille rose with a huff and stalked away, slamming down at a bar stool and forcing Guy Diamond, Creek and Gristle into conversation. All three looked rather alarmed at her sudden prickliness.

“She really doesn’t like being insulted.” Satin informed him.

“I gathered that much, thanks.”

Suki, looking slightly put out that Chenille had left, fiddled with the cord of her headphones. “She yelled about it a lot after you kicked us out of the place. That girl can hold a grudge.”

Branch exhaled lowly and cupped his tired face in his palm. Alright, one person still didn’t like him. He would make it up to her…. somehow.

Once the song died down and a new one began blaring out, Suki wriggled excitedly and delved into a loud and enthusiastic analysis of the music’s beat.

The remaining Snack Pack wisely slipped out of the booth as she started to buzz while Branch, who didn’t know anything post seven-year-old Suki, remained obliviously in his seat.

He guessed a side effect of constantly having headphones jammed over your ears, was that your hearing weakened just a tad. Suki, currently yelling out a list of her favourite songs, may possibly prove that theory correct.

Branch listened. He was informed he was a good listener. His ears hurt but he concluded that Suki wasn’t that bad.

* * *

The night carried on and as more drinks were downed, the entirety of the group had drifted out to the floor, curtesy of Poppy’s excitable beckoning.

Gristle and Biggie had become good friends, bonding over their respective pets. Gristle apparently had a crocodile named Barnabas. Well, the zoo kept him but it was still his, Gristle insisted. If Branch had to guess, he would say Gristle named a random animal at the zoo and refused to leave until the keepers referred to him as such.

Cooper had picked Smidge up and was currently spinning her around the floor until she was dizzy while Suki and Guy Diamond laughed at the display.

The twins had forced Creek on to a barstool and were interrogating him on his hair care routine. Creek didn’t seem to mind, Branch could only imagine he was sick of Gristle’s rambling.

Meanwhile, Poppy and Bridget…only seemed to _gain_ energy as their dancing continued, if that made any sense. Bridget was a clumsy dancer who moved sporadically but was still clearly having the time of her life. Poppy clapped along to every one of Bridget’s more ‘experimental’ dance moves, occasionally attempting to replicate them with little success.

Branch had resigned himself to the bar, onlooking the Snack Pack’s shenanigans and nursing a glass. He wouldn’t drink too much as he certainly didn’t need a repeat of last time. Good God, last time.

Every so often, he would glance over at the twins, specifically Chenille. She seemed to have cooled her anger but Branch didn’t doubt that a single exchange with him would have her flying into a rage.

Once you observe a person long enough, you notice some things. Whenever Satin started to yap too much for her to get a word in, Chenille would glance across the room, her fingers tapping against her sequined skirt, only to look away with a sense of urgency every time.

His curiosity had been piqued and Branch waited for the next look. He followed her gaze which settled on Suki, who was chatting animatedly with Guy Diamond.

_Oh._

Members of the Snack Pack would often engage him in light conversation as they wandered up to order a drink but once Chenille approached, she snapped her head in the opposite direction with a dramatic huff.

Branch couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

The seconds stretched in agonizing silence until he spoke up. “Can’t Stop the Feeling.”

Chenille turned to stare at him, baffled. “Excuse me?”

“Can’t Stop the Feeling. Justin Timberlake. Heard of it?”

She nodded sceptically.

“It’s one of her favourite songs.” Branch fished around in his pocket.

“Who’s?”

“You know damn well who.” He jutted his chin towards the ‘Her’ in question. “That megaphone over there with the orange hair.”

Chenille was immediately on the defence. “Look I don’t know how you got the idea that I-”

“Save it.” Branch deadpanned, counting the change that he had pulled out of his pants. “She told me it’s a song that she’ll always dance to. Doesn’t matter where. Doesn’t matter with who, she’ll dance to it. So, if somebody,” He slid the change towards Chenille. “was to play it on the jukebox and that same somebody was to ask her to dance, she’d agree in a heartbeat.”

Chenille’s eyes flickered between Branch and the money, looking dubious but tempted. “What do you want?” She asked suspiciously.

“I want you to inform me in the near future that you have a girlfriend.”

For the next couple of seconds, they stared at each other.

Finally, Chenille sighed and her painted lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. She could barely hide the giddiness and she seized the change and scurried towards the floor, her high heels clicking. As if catching herself before she left, she turned back to Branch with a grateful smile. “We missed you.”

Branch said nothing but offered a lazy salute.

Chenille jabbed in the letters, rolled in the money, pressed the button and waited. She was clearly attempting to look the role of the demure princess she saw herself as but her faintly bouncing knees told otherwise.

The first note blasted at high volume and unsurprisingly, Poppy lost her goddamn mind.

Branch was not a Justin Timberlake fan. He had been pretty neutral towards the singer for most of his life but Poppy changed everything. She pulled him aside one uneventful Thursday to show him her Mouseketeer shrine, the posters and the stacks upon stacks of CDs and proceeded to give him a thorough hour long walkthrough from Justin’s birth to his current film and music career. That man had now earned a very high ranking spot right next to Creek on Branch’s shit list. Justin Timberlake could meet him in the fucking pit.

Chenille was quick to grab Suki by the hand and tugged her to the floor with a surprising bout of strength for such a petite girl. Suki certainly didn’t mind, grinning and eagerly jumping into the dance. They twirled and swayed and hopped and sang along like children through gasps of adrenaline laughter.

Branch took advantage of the song to overtly stare at Poppy, when she was too absorbed in Justin’s peppy lyrics to notice. She spun in fast circles to make her skirt flare, gently tugging Bridget along as she rocked wildly from side to side, eyes alit and wearing her bubbliest of beams. Branch lived with Poppy. He knew she was capable of some adorable shit but good God, this was borderline ‘Just punch me in the face.’ kind of cute.

The only thing capable of ruining this type of purity, strolled towards the two girls with an air of casualty. Branch groaned internally, slipping off his stool in case he needed to intervene.

Creek inquired something that Branch couldn’t hear over the music.

Poppy shook her head with an apologetic smile, gesturing to Bridget who had stopped dancing and was observing the two with slight caution.

Creek persisted, his head prodding forwards as he continued to speak.

Poppy shook her head more firmly this time, all while babbling out an explanation.

Branch was just about to cut into the conversation when Bridget moved to stand in front of Poppy, her nervous fidgeting evident as she stuttered out some sort of sentence with the most standoffish face he had ever seen her pull. She took Poppy’s hand, never breaking eye contact with Creek.

Branch felt himself smile. Bridget was growing on him.

Creek nodded, looking fully understanding but that didn’t stop him from worming around Bridget and placing a hand on Poppy’s back.

Whatever she said had ‘No.’ written all over it as she swiftly wriggled out of his grasp.

Creek didn’t relent, his lips still yapping away in what was undoubtedly a smooth and punch worthy script, as he continued to find ways to touch her despite her protests. He finally managed to land a hand on her waist and that was when she snapped.

“Fucking stop it!” Poppy all but screeched, shoving his hand away with a kind of anger he didn’t know she possessed.

Creek, looking like he had been slapped, blinked rapidly at her before his eyes shot around to inspect the damage.

The Snack Pack had stopped dancing, all of them staring at the display with alarm.

Poppy had pressed her fingertips to her lips, eyes wide as her knees bounced nervously. “I-I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean that. I shouldn’t have yelled or got angry. I’m really really sorry. I just-I…. I just,” She floundered helplessly, flinching at that stupid fucking ‘Hurt’ face that Creek always pulled to make her feel bad.

Branch knocked the stool on its back with the force in which he stood, but by the time he had stormed across the floor, Poppy had bolted, Bridget at her heels.

* * *

“Yep, yep, yep, yep, yep.” Poppy was pacing the women’s bathroom, nervously twirling her fingers around strained strands of pink hair as she attempted to form coherent thoughts. “I did not mean to do that, I should not have done that, that was very bad. This is very very bad.”

Bridget, who had never been all that skilled in dealing with people’s feelings, was hovering uncertainly around Poppy, her palms outwards in a perpetual attempt to calm. “He was mean though. He-he-he was trying to get you to stop dancing and you tried to tell him you didn’t want to but-”

“That doesn’t mean I can just yell at him and embarrass him in front of all our friends!” Poppy cried, dramatically throwing her hands in the air.

Bridget glanced at the bathroom door. Branch couldn’t come in but had entrusted Bridget with the task of settling Poppy’s worries. Looking back at the hyperactively distressed girl, she anxiously wrung her hands. “Y’know, I-I don’t really know much about Creek but…. he kinda creeps me out. Is he really all that great?”

Poppy sighed. “He is. He-he really is. He’s my friend. He’s been my friend a long long time. I don’t wanna say he’s a bad guy ‘cause he’s not but he just doesn’t know what he’s doing. Like, it’s not even his fault. I’m the one who keeps letting him do this stuff so he has like no idea if it bothers me or not. I just- I just want everything to go okay. I don’t want us to have any fights or arguments or…I hate them. I’m just trying to be good. A good girlfriend, a good friend, a good person, I dunno.” She threw herself back, defeated against the sink.

“Have, uh…” Bridget stammered, clueless as to how to deal with this situation. “Have you tried telling him about the stuff you don’t like?”

She shook her head. “I mean, I will. I will at some point. It’s just I don’t wanna have a serious conversation with Creek. I’m scared. He’s gonna take it the wrong way, he’s gonna be sad, I’m gonna make him upset and…I can’t. I can’t do that.”

“Does he… _ever_ make you happy?”

Poppy didn’t reply and didn’t speak again for another half minute. “Branch said maybe I should think about breaking up with him.”

“Do _you_ think you should break up with him?” Bridget was encouraged by their progress.

“Branch… I-I didn’t know how I could even tell Branch but like….it wouldn’t be easy. It’s like-like uh…” Poppy spun her wrist as she tried to think of the metaphor. “I-it’s like jenga! Like if I break up with Creek, Creek will be sad. I don’t want Creek to be sad. If I break up with Creek, the Snack Pack will be sad. I don’t want the Snack Pack to be sad. If I break up with Creek, everyone being sad will make me sad and I don’t wanna be sad. I _cannot_ be sad anymore.”

“B-but you’re sad right now…. aren’t you?” She tried rubbing soothingly against Poppy’s back.

“I know!” Poppy’s voice cracked. “I’ve been sad so many times since we started this whole thing and I need to stop. I’m happy, that’s my thing. That’s what everyone knows me as, that’s what _I_ know me as and if I stop being happy then….” She trailed off in a shaky gasp, scrubbing at her skin with her knuckles until her cheeks were red. “I’m trying so hard to be happy. But…but if I break up with Creek, everything’s just gonna fall down and-” She caught herself before her mind could twist into anymore more depressing outcomes and pulling her hands against the sides of her head, she groaned, frustrated. “All I wanna do is keep everyone happy.”

Bridget was not good with people but she was plump and squishy enough to give some very warm, very loving hugs. Poppy clung to her like a lifeline.

* * *

For years, Creek had prided himself in his ability to hold it together in the most stressful of situations. Not that it was a talent he had always possessed but enough practice had given him the benefit.

But sometimes everyone needed a little help to keep calm.

Chilled by the cold air outside the bar, he ripped the plastic from the cigarette box and felt around in his pocket for a lighter. Once he had placed one between his teeth and lit a flame, a pair of rhinestone studded arms slunk around his neck.

“Gorgeous,” Guy Diamond simpered from behind.

“Beautiful.” Creek replied dryly. To be perfectly honest, he was not in the mood for this.

Guy clicked his tongue disapprovingly as skipped around Creek to get a good look at his face. “And here I thought you were trying to quit.”

“Yes, ‘Trying’ being the key word here, mate.”

“You told me yoga was doing the trick. Have you been lying to me, Creek?” Guy’s voice was obnoxiously playful.

Creek resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yoga has been going fine. But I can’t just break out my mat in the middle of a bar, can I? Need something more convenient to keep my head on straight.”

“I wonder what Poppy thinks of kissing such an ashy mouth.”

“Well, I’d imagine she has no opinion. This is my first one in weeks.”

Guy Diamond hummed thoughtfully, leaning back against Creek’s wall. For one stretch of a moment, they stood silent, sans Guy’s light sputtering from Creek’s fumes.

“Why don’t you talk to me anymore?” Guy Diamond asked suddenly.

Creek quirked a brow. “I talk to you every day. There’s rarely a moment when I’m _not_ talking to you.”

“That’s not what I mean, Creek.” Guy said slowly. “You know damn well that you haven’t been yourself in almost three years now. You really think I haven’t noticed that?”

“Well, excuse me for taking up yoga.”

“That’s not what I mean either!” Guy snapped. “You know what I mean. Ever since you told me about your mom back in high school, you just…” His hands hovered in the air as he searched for the phrase, as Creek stiffened noticeably. “You just shut down completely. It’s like you don’t react to anything anymore. Like remember when we were younger and I would sneak up behind you and you would scream?”

“You want me to scream?” Creek asked in a restrained monotone.

_Give him any satisfaction and you’re fucked._

“Kind of, yeah. At least I’d know you were yourself again. But-but it’s like you don’t even feel emotions now. I know you, Creek and I know your smile’s dead and your laugh’s hollow. Have you been replaced by an alien or something, what has been going on with you?”

Creek sighed, inhaling a cigarette with a little more vigor than necessary. Thank God he had these things. “Is that what you want? You’re here to insult me for maturing into a calmer individual?”

“No.” Guy said sternly, a tone that made Creek slightly uneasy. “I’m here to ask what the Hell you think you’re doing with Poppy?”

“I’m dating her.” He answered, voice tight.

“No, I mean what do you _want_ with her?”

Creek tutted. “So, you don’t think I’m just with her because I love her?”

“You are not interested in Poppy, Creek. That is the most obvious thing about this situation and I have no idea why no one sees it. I-I really thought that maybe Poppy would…that she would help you, maybe bring you back to your old self but…” Guy Diamond’s expression hardened, his eyes flaring. “You’re using her. You’re dragging her into whatever the fuck you have going on. Creek, I was worried about you at the start but now I…. I don’t know if you even deserve it. I’m worried about Poppy now. For the love of God, whatever it is, leave her out of it."

Creek kept his breath even. “I love Poppy, I am not using her for-”

“Stop fucking lying to me!” Guy Diamond exploded. “You have been lying for years. Can’t you just tell the truth for the first time in-”

“Guy.” Creek cut him off by tracing his fingers along the line of Guy Diamond’s jaw, much to his disgust. “You have a very pretty face and I feel that you should flaunt it. But thinking? It’s unbecoming on you. I have to say that I liked you far better when all you cared about was glitter and sequins.”

Guy ground his teeth. “And I liked you a lot better before you started acting like an unfeeling robot.”

Creek smiled icily, turning away and taking another puff.

“I’m inclined to say I hate you.”

Creek swallowed.

_Let him know that stung and you’re as good as a dead man._

“Inclined?” Creek forced out a laugh. “Why not just say it?”

Guy Diamond sighed. “I want to.” He glanced up, taking a moment to examine Creek’s cigarette as it dangled up and down on his lip. Guy suddenly lunged at him, ripping the smoke from his mouth and crushing it beneath his foot.

Creek stared, speechless.

“You’re the one who said you never wanted to be anything like her. Well, guess what, stupid? Addiction is the first step.”

“Actually,” Creek hastily regained his composure. “If we’re going by her story, love is the first step.”

Guy laughed humourlessly. “Well, we don’t need to worry about that. I doubt you even feel love anymore.”

Creek wisely bit back his retort.

“So, you’re not going to say anything to me?”

“I would say go choke yourself in a barrel full of glitter if I weren’t so polite.”

Guy Diamond said nothing, his glare said everything. He didn’t go back inside but tore away from Creek and headed briskly down the street with the obvious intention of slamming his head down on a pillow. Creek watched him go until he was out of sight but nowhere near out of mind.

Snapping back to reality, Creek fumbled with the cigarette package, suddenly desperate for another.

“I always figured you’d hate smoking.” Came an incredulous voice from behind.

Creek whipped around, unaware that he felt so jumpy until now.

Branch’s eyebrows raised at the sight of his expression. “The fuck has gotten you so shaken?”

He didn’t answer, the flame from his lighter far more important than Branch at this current point in time. However, once the other wandered over to his side, Creek was forced to acknowledge him. “I do hate smoking.”

Branch waited for Creek to elaborate.

He didn’t but shook the package at Branch in offering.

He wrinkled his nose as a decline.

Creek smirked. “Smart boy. I imagine you as the type to get addicted to things too easily.”

“Cut the shit. You know what I’m here for.”

“Hmm, can’t say I do. Care to inform me?”

“Poppy.” Branch growled. “Get. Away. From Poppy.”

“Goodness, Branch.” Creek placed a hand to his chest in mock bemusement. “If Poppy had a problem with me, I’d assume she would tell me. Yes, we have been having some relationship struggles but I don’t think it’s anything we can’t work through.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Branch snapped. “You’re making her miserable. She wants to dump you but she doesn’t know how. Can’t you be a decent fucking person for once in your life and just end things yourself?”

Creek’s bottom lip fell. “You’re asking me to break the heart of my own girlfriend? I-I actually cannot believe someone would ask that of me. Why are you doing this, Branch?”

“I’m her friend.” He stated simply. “I care about her happiness.”

“Ohhh, oh you do? You’re doing this because you’re her friend?”

Branch furrowed his brow at Creek’s lofty tone.

“Branch, I assume you’ve heard of Bergen Magazine?” Creek pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. He held up the wrinkled sheet, rows of text littered below the bold heading ‘Poetry Corner.’ “Because I think there may be another reason why you’re trying to break up a happy couple.”

Branch was gawking at the sheet with unconcealed horror, even taking a sharp step backwards as Creek thrust it in his direction.

Creek laughed. “So, I’m correct? F.B Blue, my friend. I truly do admire your poetry. It always did remind me of someone. Thank God I figured it out or it would have drove me mad.”

Branch was silent, a fact that Creek relished.

“Listen, Branch.” He said with an air of sympathy. “You’re an old friend of mine so you know I’d never want to spill your secrets. However,” Creek hovered closer and caught Branch’s chin between his fingers. “You’re becoming quite annoying. Maybe if _you_ were to stay away from Poppy, things would be a lot easier.”

Branch opened his mouth and snapped at Creek’s hand, which he hastily withdrew.

“No.”

“W-what?” Creek quickly steadied the surprise in his tone. “Um. Branch, I don’t know if you understand. I really don’t like to make threats but to put things bluntly…. stay away from Poppy or I’m telling her the truth."

“No.” Branch repeated. “Poppy needs me. She told me she needs me. So, I’m going to stay with her. Tell her if you have to but I’m not going anywhere."

Creek stood, stunned. It appeared as though Branch had grown a spine since they last time they talked. Alright, it didn’t matter. Spines were strong but they could still snap. He wracked his brain to find a way for this to work in his favour. Finally, it came to him.

“So, how do you think it’s going to go, Branch? How do you think Poppy will react if I told her you were F.B Blue?”

“Mad probably.” He mumbled. “Pissed off that I didn’t tell her. Weirded out too when she figures out that they’re all about her.”

“Really?” Creek questioned, politely raising his eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound like too much of a disaster. I would imagine a far different reaction but…. that’s just me.”

“What?” Branch spoke as if he didn’t want to hear Creek say another word but one day, Creek would have to inform him that a question was not a way to go about that.

“Well, I must admit, Poppy and I have been having some struggles with our relationship. Have you been helping her through these tough times?”

“Yeah?”

“And you’ve been nudging her in the direction of breaking up with me, yes?”

“Yeah, you’re an asshole.”

“But can you imagine poor, sweet Poppy’s face falling when she discovers that one of her closest friends has been attracted to her this whole time. I mean, just think.” Creek strolled leisurely towards Branch, hands tucked neatly behind his back. “All the times you’ve been there for her. She must have considered you a real friend. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were just a sexually frustrated boy who only wanted to get involved with his housemate.”

“No.” Branch ground out. “That’s not why I did it, I-”

“But, but, but, but,” Creek said in a sing song voice. “You understand how it could be misinterpreted. Good God, Poppy would be crushed. You know women, they always like to feel like they’re more than something to sleep with. And the thought of her close friend Branch using her like that-”

“She’s not an idiot, she wouldn’t fucking believe that I-”

“Really, Branch? Really?” Creek rested himself against Branch’s shoulder. “But what if-stay with me here…what if someone who was just trying to prevent his own relationship being sabotaged, made her believe it?”

Branch glared like he wanted to punch him. “She wouldn’t believe you.”

“Well, putting your flowery poetry aside,” Creek tore the magazine page in half. “Now.” Leering into Branch’s face, he whispered. “Which one of us has the way with words?”

“What do you want?” Branch muttered before his voice raised. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

Creek chuckled. “Listen, since you were one of the first friends I ever had, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. I won’t make you stay away from Poppy. But you have to promise me you’ll stop trying to ruin our relationship.”

“Improve.” He said quietly.

“I’m sorry?”

“Improve!” Branch shouted, immediately delving into a rage induced rant. “I will promise to stop butting into it if you fucking improve the way you’re treating her. Stop being a dick, stop manipulating her, stop making her feel guilty! There is no way in Hell I’m going to stop trying to tear you two apart if you don’t clean up your fucking act!”

Creek inhaled, frankly taken aback. “I don’t believe I’m treating her-”

“Shut the fuck up, Creek.” He said sharply, clearly at the end of his rope. “Last Monday, she wanted to go home. She was all excited about it. But you wouldn’t let her, so I come home and find her making a fucking crying collage on our coffee table. Don’t you dare tell me you haven’t been having a negative affect after all the shit you’ve done.”

After a prolonged period of tense silence, Creek spoke. “Alright, I’ll try to be a better boyfriend.”

Branch glowered. “I don’t believe you.”

Creek shrugged. “What choice do you have? I _am_ going to improve, Branch. First things first. Help her pack for Troll Town tomorrow.”

He cocked a brow. “You’re letting her go?”

“I’m also clearing all my plans. I’m going with her.” Creek smiled with a nod.

Branch made a disgruntled noise. “Well, I guess I’m fucking going too.”

Creek scoffed. “Branch, I…I hate to break this to you but you really don’t have anyone to visit back in Troll Town. Unless you’re planning to drop in on your old foster parents. Remember them? The people you treated like dirt? I really don’t think they want to see you again.”

Branch seethed silently before swallowing and attempting to calm himself. “I’ll visit my grandma then. I’ll sleep in the car, I don’t know. I’m just not leaving her alone with you.”

He chuckled. “If you insist. I do have to check in on my mother so someone will need to keep Poppy entertained while I’m not around. You know, if both of us just stick to our promises, everything just might go smoothly.”

Branch didn’t respond but instead looked Creek up and down before turning away.

“One more thing!” Creek called out.

He looked over his shoulder as Creek spread out his arms

“You up for some heart synchronization?”

Branch scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“Oh, it’s perfectly fine if I scare you a bit, Branch. I understand.” Creek waited, brow raised challengingly, a smirk playing along his lips.

With blood undoubtedly boiling, Branch marched up to Creek and surrendered into the embrace.

Creek chuckled, soaking in Branch’s humiliation as he wrapped his arms around his old friend.

It happened quick and in one swift motion as a knee shot up and smashed against Creek’s groin. He shouted out an uncontrolled swear as he crumped forwards, attempting to relieve the pain through tight gasps.

“I hate you.” Branch said simply, turning on his heel and walking away.

Creek, grinding his teeth, forced out a strained laugh. “Don’t you mean you’re inclined to say?” He breathed to no one in particular.

Just a lone asshole in the dead of night, bent over in pain with his cigarettes lying forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there bud. If you're binging this whole thing in one go, this is where you should probably take a break. It's just a suggestion cuz it might be 3am for all I know. A lot of people tell me they stay up to irresponsible hours of the morning to finish it and that's no good. Rest, child, rest. 
> 
> Yeah so anyways here are the beautiful amazing wonderful artists who personally want me dead and I consent tbh 
> 
> [BRIDGE KISSES!!](http://frootpunch.tumblr.com/post/157121759101)
> 
> [MORE BRIDGE KISSES!!](http://azahlea-valonir.tumblr.com/post/157041556882)
> 
> [KISSESKISSESKISSES!!](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/157027542353)
> 
> [Wholesome date shenanigans](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/157002813588)
> 
> [Spongey smush](http://frootpunch.tumblr.com/post/156953062553)
> 
> [My giiiiiirrrrrl](http://misspontaneous.tumblr.com/post/156519586957)
> 
> Also my url is tisbubb on tumblr if you're looking for my whereabouts.


	13. Chapter 13

The two of them were sometimes considered something of a comedy duo, Branch being the more level-headed one to bounce back against Poppy’s high energy.

Well, Poppy was here to clarify that notion as complete and utter bullshit.

The pair often found themselves taking turns in being the responsible one and while Branch wore the role quite well, he still had his moments.

“I will turn. This car. Around.” She emphasised, fingers tightening around the wheel.

“You’re the one who wanted to go home.” Branch shot back.

“I will kick you out of the car if you don’t shut up.” Poppy pointed a sharp finger at him but held her gaze dead ahead.

Branch had been very insistent that she keep her eyes on the road.

“Goodness, Branch. Be a little more considerate, can’t you? Poppy’s driving us all the way home. Not nice to snap at her like that, is it?”

“Put on your fucking seat belt!” Branch repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.

It was a three-hour long squabble that resurfaced every ten minutes. Branch had been adamant in claiming the front seat and Creek had obliged, happily spreading himself into a laying position in the back, waving off any advice to buckle up with an airy “You’re far too uptight, Branch. Live a little.”

Creek’s careless disregard for his own safety had Branch itching with restlessness and with a bouncing knee, he continuously glanced back at him with a glare.

While Poppy couldn’t look to see Creek’s reaction, he was silent. When Creek was silent, odds are he was smiling.

They had fixed things, Poppy and Creek. Well, as best they could. After a long talk over herbal tea, he had assured her that none of his actions had been to deliberately belittle her. Poppy knew this, she knew he hadn’t meant it but it was reassuring to know he would be more perceptive in future. She recalled nodding and telling him it was fine.

Their relationship was still… a tad rocky. Her attraction to Creek had faded considerably during the past weeks but through a steady inhale, she convinced herself not to worry. Things could be weird after a rough patch but they would build their love back up… eventually.

She didn’t need to break up with him. Everything was going to be just fine.

Just fine.

“O-oh, um, Poppy?” Creek piped up as a familiar Troll Town street unfolded under the wheels.

“Yeah?”

“Would it-would it be alright if you were to drop me off here? I-I’d like to check in on my mum now if that’s fine with you.”

“Uh, okay but didn’t you say you were gonna come talk with my Dad? Like I know you’ve met him before but since we’ve started this um, thing, he’ll probably want to-”

“Yes, yes, I will. I will, I promise. I’ll be sure to meet up with the two of you in a few hours but…” Creek had already opened the door and hopped out as the car slowed.

“You don’t want me to drop you off at your place? I totally could, just-”

“Poppy, darling.” Creek simpered, shutting the door and drifting up to her open window. “I have to wonder if you know me at all. I love walks, I love nature. I’ll be fine.” He leaned over to press a kiss against her cheek, arm rested along the car roof. “I’m sure Branch will keep you occupied while I’m gone. Look after her, alright, mate?”

Branch, his head fixed firmly in the opposite direction, gave a lazy thumb up followed by a shooing gesture.

Creek wasted no time and was gone within minutes, blending into the busy walkway with the locals, his shoulders relaxed as if he had never left home.

“He must really miss his mom.” Poppy mused quietly.

She waited without realizing she was waiting. It wasn’t until nothing happened, that she noticed something was different.

“Huh. Usually I can’t say one thing about Creek without you insulting him. Good job, my man.”

Branch, arms folded, mouth tight, muttered a clipped “No problem.”

* * *

Troll Town was, what most would consider, a pleasant place. Cute little houses and establishments painted every color under the sun, blooming blossoms, lush trees and faces both young and old glowing with a perpetual optimism that could only be described as ‘A Troll Town kind of joy.’

It was never really Branch’s kind of town and Branch… just wasn’t Troll Town’s kind of person.

They had always been civil and kind to him. They were, by no means, the type of people to ostracize an orphan. Nah, he did that to himself. During Branch’s late childhood and early adolescence, he had developed a rather hot temper. And good God, he was an absolute nightmare during puberty. It was no wonder the locals (his own foster parents included) so carefully tip toed around the dreaded child who had grown a reputation for raining on parades. Once he was old enough and their parental instincts faded, they evolved into avoiding him altogether. It’s not like he could blame them though.

Poppy was babbling on about seeing her Dad again as the house drew nearer and Branch would occasionally grunt in acknowledgment to feign attentiveness. Pressing his head against the window, he scratched uneasily at his arm. He had lived in Troll Town since birth but somehow, being here after so long felt like an intrusion.

Poppy’s home was quaint but spacious. Technicolor flowers of every kind, smiled from their beds, a selection of hand painted lawn ornaments scattered the yard and an ancient swing set lay chipping but by no means, untouched. Branch doubted Peppy would let it go to waste so he assumed that even today, Troll Town children came and went.

And the house itself? A pearly backdrop splattered with swirls of various murals. Suns, moons, stars, milky ways, plants, trees, flowers, animals, children and fairy tales. There were a million things going on at once and Branch wanted to drink in every little detail that held so much heart. He had blurry memories of Poppy’s color splashed house but it was only now, that he realized just how much toil it must have taken to create. But who painted it?

“Oh my God, he’s there! He’s right there! He’s waiting for us!” Poppy suddenly squealed as they rolled into the driveway. Scrabbling to get her seatbelt off and throwing open the door, she launched out of the car with about as much grace as you would expect from Poppy.

Mayor Peppy hobbled down the porch steps, aided by his cane, but with an eager grin and the sprightliness of a child, dived into his daughter’s hug as she threw herself at him. The excitable shrieks matched against low throaty exclaims were muffled behind the glass of the window but Branch didn’t need to be a genius to understand that this was not his moment to interrupt.

Making as little noise as possible, he pushed open his door and sat, as the tiny family’s words cleared. “-And Guy Diamond was the star of the show and he did just amazing and we partied so much afterwards and I think Suki and Chenille might be dating now? I dunno but anyways, I’ve got this new friend called Bridget and she is just the sweetest-”

“Poppy.” Peppy interrupted through his smile. “You told me all of this through your emails. Not that I don’t like to hear about it again but…how was your trip? Are you tired?” He reached out to grip her shoulders. “Are you hungry? Have you kids eaten? I can fix up something, I just need-”

“Never mind that.” Poppy cut him off. The two of them seemed to battle for the chance to run their respective motor mouth. Branch wondered how they ever got through any conversation.

“How’s your knee? Any better? Any worse?”

Peppy scrunched up his nose and clicked his cane against the grass. “Same as always but I _am_ getting old,” He sighed. “But wasting your time getting worked up over aging is no way to spend your senior years.”

His gaze strayed over the car and Branch’s eyes widened, startled as the Mayor caught sight of him. “Is…is that little F-?”

“Branch, Branch, Branch, yeah it is!” Poppy exclaimed hurriedly. “He still goes by Branch, Dad. Just-just keep that in mind.”

“O-oh, of course, of course.” Mayor Peppy waved a welcoming hand and beckoned him towards them.

Branch stood obediently and crossed the lawn, stepping up beside Poppy. As if on cue, he blurted it out. “Uh. Sorry.”

Peppy raised a brow. “Whu…what are you sorry for, boy? I don’t mind people stepping on my lawn, I do it all the time now that-”

“No. Uh. I’m sorry for...being such a…. not so nice kid. I’ve kind of been trying to apologize to as many people as I can and…. You probably deserve one the most.”

Peppy had been around for quite a few of Branch’s lowest moments. He had been waiting patiently, face illuminated by the sterilized brightness of a hospital waiting room. He loomed over Branch, seemingly 10 feet high back then, dressed in pitch black, as they all were. It was him that drove Branch to therapy that one time. it was him that introduced Branch to his first new ‘parents’. It was him that stuck by Branch’s side when those same parents ‘didn’t work out,’ As they termed it. It was him that tried so hard to find another couple. It was him that paid for Branch’s old flat. It was him that constantly checked up on Branch even when he wanted so badly to be left alone.

Branch had yelled at him more than once. To the irritable and quite frankly, pretentious teenager, he was an annoying, dim witted old man who just lived to pester him.

A large hand clapped down on his back. Mayor Peppy had not allowed his ancient smile to fade as he nodded. “I think I can forgive you, boy. Now, have you eaten? I don’t want any starving kids in my house.”

* * *

“Fuzzbert!” Poppy cried, darting across the living room and throwing herself down on the couch. Complimentary scratches and pats were immediately given to the old and greying Pomeranian. “Dad, I thought you didn’t want him in the house.” She cooed, planting him on her lap.

“I didn’t.” Peppy steadily made his way to the couch. “He was wild and yappy for the longest time. I love that dog but I wouldn’t have been able to handle him. Buuut…” He lowered himself down beside his daughter. “He’s getting old. Just like me. And he misses all you kids. Just like me. He’s calmed down now and I’ve noticed we have a lot in common.” He patted affectionately at the dog’s wild coat. Fuzzbert was tired and confused but pleased nonetheless.

The Snack Pack had adopted Fuzzbert back when they were ten. Branch had never been a fan of the annoying, yapping little bundle of fluff. But silently leaning against the couch, and staring at the old sleepy animal with the fading eyesight, reached down and scratched him behind the ears.

Poppy was delighted.

“So…” Peppy glanced between the two younger occupants before whispering not so quietly to Poppy. “I thought your boyfriend was the other one. Uhh…that um…t-that River boy!”

“Creek.” Poppy corrected. “B-but yeah, yeah. He is. He just…” As if without conscious thought, she glanced down at her phone. “He, uh, he’s coming. He’ll be here soon.”

Peppy, brow furrowed briefly, instantly changed the topic of discussion. “Okay. I’ve been asking you kids since you got here if you’ve eaten and you keep dodging my questions. Get off your butts, we’re making cookies!”

* * *

Branch did not know a lot about making cookies but from what he did know, making this much of a mess was not unavoidable.

However, if you didn’t make a mess, could you really claim that Poppy had anything to do with it?

The girl in question was splattered in dough, her fingers buttery, her face flecked with flour and sugar. Peppy looked similar and after enough smart ass comments, Poppy had not let Branch get away squeaky clean either.

The kitchen was destroyed yet oddly enough, the tiny family didn’t look bothered.

“Do you two… bake often?”

“Yep!” They chirped in unison.

“And…does this happen every time?”

“Yep!”

Branch stopped asking questions. He had no idea how these two adults managed to create such havoc after having been baking since Poppy was in diapers but with these two, he wasn’t as shocked as he should be.

“Branch, boy,” Peppy said, dropping goops of dough upon tinfoil. “Would you go get the nice pink flowery display rack out in the dining room? We’ll set the cookies up real nice and I’ll take a picture and-and I’ll put it up on the socializing media!” He lit up as Poppy giggled. “I’ll get so many likers!”

“You’re gonna get a fuck ton of likers!”

Peppy and Branch both gasped dramatically.

Poppy pouted. “Would you guys just let me _live_?!”

Branch, still smirking, wandered out into the old fashioned and musty smelling dining room. The rack was set up on an old wooden cabinet displaying numerous decorative plates, animal ornaments and framed photographs.

Lingering over the glass, he subtly peered over for a quick glance. Poppy, most of the images were of Poppy. Graduating Poppy, Poppy at prom, Poppy at the talent show, Poppy pre-hair dye, middle school Poppy, little Poppy, baby Poppy.

Branch didn’t realize he had been strolling along the cabinet of her backwards aging progress until the chubby grinning infant was staring him in the face.

The shelf below Poppy’s timeline was far more subdued but Branch was still drawn to stare. Group shots, birthday parties, family reunions, weddings. A youthful Peppy decked in a tux beamed out at him, his newly wedded wife frozen by the flash but there was a certain kind of life about her that Branch could just tell she was eagerly bouncing her knees under that long snowy dress.

The next image didn’t just catch his eye but caught his heart and squeezed it tightly. The whole kindergarten class, forgotten faces, familiar faces. His younger self was sat next to Poppy, their hands clasped together to soothe her as her dangling legs were locked in caution. And She was there. Looking flustered and tired and Branch could only relate. Munchkins were a tough job and he could only imagine a kindergarten teacher to know that too well. But she was happy. And untouched. And safe.

“You got that rack, Branch?” He whipped around to see Poppy peeking curiously into the doorframe, her Dad standing behind her with a large mixing bowl.

“Hey, whatcha lookin-AH!” She squeaked out a startled noise as the remaining chunks of cookie dough blopped down on her head, her mouth gaping open in shock. “Daddy! It’s in my hair!”

Peppy laughed heartily, the bowl still hovering over her head. “Oopsie daisy. I’m old and confused, Poppy, dear. I just never know what I’m doing.”

She shot him with a glare that crumbled significantly as it fought to hide an amused smirk. Finally, she groaned, slumping her shoulders. “Fiiiine. I was kinda startin’ to stink anyway. Imma go take a shower. Be back.”

Branch felt instant panic as Poppy parted further and once the sound of her steps pounding up the stairs had ceased, she was gone. His hands shifted to his pockets, unwilling to fill the awkward silence. But Peppy, surprisingly, released a relieved sigh and strolled over to Branch’s side. “There. Now we can chat.”

Branch gawked, the slight tension he felt evaporating and replaced with incredulity. “You dumped cookie dough on your daughter’s head just so you could talk to me?”

“You ever hear of the Ice Bucket Challenge, boy?”

He nodded.

“It was popular while you kids were in High School.” Peppy’s eyes went glassy with unpleasant memories. “I had no idea it existed…until I participated. Without knowing. At 3am.” He shook his head, repressing a shudder. “She’s a sweet girl but…. I’ve been trying to get appropriate revenge on her for years. I don’t even think the cookie dough is good enough. Now, anyway,” He gestured to the old group photo, Rosiepuff’s face in particular. “Is this the one you were looking at?”

Branch’s fingers curled inside his pockets. “Yeah. Uh. I-I just hadn’t looked at a picture of her in a while so….” He trailed off, giving up on any attempt to articulate how it felt to see her smile again.

Peppy nodded understandingly, lightly pressing open the display case and pulling the frame under the light. “Rosena or…uhh, what was it you kids called her again?”

“Rosiepuff.”

He laughed. “Right, right. Rosiepuff. Odd woman. Didn’t care much for people but-”

“W-wait, what?”

Peppy turned and skimmed his eyes up and down Branch’s bemused expression. After a few moments, he softened. “No one told you much about Rosena after her passing, did they?”

_I knew her. What more do I need to be told?_

With his brow knitting together in bafflement, he shook his head.

“What do you remember about your grandmother, Branch?”

“Uhh…” Well, there were a million things. “She was nice. A-and she was funny. She cooked a lot. She read stories. And she hugged me all the time. Uh. She was…she was happy?”

_Fuck, I don’t know. I was eight._

Peppy seemed content with this answer. “Yes, it makes sense that you would remember her like that. You were her grandson after all and she loved you more than anything. But Rosena-uh, sorry Rosiepuff was never nearly as open with us as she was with you. She was a quiet lady, kept to herself, bit of a recluse most of the time so-”

“No she wasn’t!” Branch snapped, as all respect for Peppy popped like a balloon. “Gramma was kind, she cared about people, she-”

“Yes, yes, she was, Branch! Easy now!” Peppy raised his hands to soothe him. “I never said Rosiepuff wasn’t a wonderful woman. By God, she was one of the gentlest ladies I knew. Worked with my wife for a while when she wanted to start up her own charity. I’m just saying that…. she could only really open up to the people she loved. Not that I knew her very well but… I saw her with her class, I saw her with you and that’s-that’s when she just lit up. That’s where she was the most comfortable. None of us adults ever got to know her like you kids did.”

Branch blinked. Then glanced up at Peppy. Then blinked again. Somehow this mental image that Peppy was painting just didn’t connect with all prior memories of his grandmother. She was cheerful, she was bright. This was… this was a lot to take. “My gramma.” He said slowly. “She wasn’t… like Poppy?”

“Poppy?” Mayor Peppy’s eyes shot to the roof. “Oh no, no. Good God, no. Rosena was nothing like Poppy. In fact, I’m only telling you this because I-I wanted to say that she was a lot like you.”

“Me?” Branch only now realized just how weak his voice was. “Gramma was like me? I-but I’m an asshole. There’s no way she was like me.”

Peppy smiled patiently. “You’re not an asshole, Branch.”

“But when I was kid…”

“Alright, point taken. But that’s what you were. You were a kid.”

Branch stared at him.

Peppy elaborated. “By the time of Rosena’s accident, you were growing more and more into yourself, becoming more introverted and all. You got a lot of attention afterwards and… I could see it. I could see it on your little face. You were confused and you were scared and upset and overwhelmed, ahh…” Peppy’s shoulders drooped as he grimaced. “It was hard to watch really.”

“That didn’t give me the right to lash out at so many people though.” Branch muttered, the memories of the vicious things he said, hitting him with full force.

“No, no, you’re right. It didn’t. I’m not saying that the things you said were in any way appropriate but… I could understand. The first parents you were left with-”

“They didn’t want me.” Branch cut through bitterly.

Peppy sighed. “Well, you’re all grown up now so I suppose I can say it. Yes. They _didn’t_ want you. They wanted the child benefit. But you were a bright boy. You had instincts. You knew damn well that they didn’t love you as much as they were pretending to. Understandable that you’d grow a lot of resentment.”

“Uh…thanks for…the flat. For-for letting me stay there. I know that you got a lot of backlash for it but-”

“You were sixteen.” Peppy shrugged, his hands tucked neatly in his trouser pockets. “And you were mature for your age. I had to admit, I didn’t like the thought of a teenager living on their own but… you needed alone time that you weren’t getting. I tried checking up on you every day just to make sure you were safe but…”

“Yeah. I… I was an asshole to you. You were trying to look out for me and I was an asshole. I’m sorry.”

Peppy chuckled lightly. “Puberty.” He said simply. “Trauma, confusion, exhaustion, resentment and then some angry, angry puberty came along and made everything worse. You had a lot of things piling up on you all at once but you were a kid. I mean, even as a teenager. I could see it in your eyes sometimes. You were just a boy who wanted to hug his grandma again and even after all the times you lashed out, I couldn’t bring myself to give up on you after so many others had.”

Branch kept his gaze rooted to the carpet. He couldn’t speak, he desperately wanted to but he was afraid of what might come out. “Thank you.” He finally managed, his throat considerably tight.

“You’re a lot like Rosiepuff, Branch. Even if not a lot of people notice, you are. You’re quiet, you’re reserved but you’re kind. I know this. Someone else knows this and she’s been telling me how much you’ve grown for quite a while now. She’s proud. I’m proud.”

“Okay, so I dunno what’s goin’ on but are we all telling Branch we’re proud of him?”

The two turned to find Poppy hovering in the doorway, hair damp. She clicked Branch with some finger guns. “Who knows whatcha did but I’m proud of you, buddy! Also, Dad. Remember how you said you really missed having hair dye stains in the shower? I got some good news for ya!”

Peppy sighed. “No, Poppy. I remember saying the one thing I _didn’t_ miss was having hair dye stains in the shower.”

“Ohhh…” Poppy nodded slowly. “Yeah, that makes a lot more sense. Okay, okay re-do.” She ran an open palm over her face to clear her expression, backtracking and popping up again through the doorway. “Heeey, Dad. Remember how you said you _didn’t_ miss having hair dye stains in the shower? I got some not so good news for ya!”

“Poppy.”

“Yes, Daddy o’ mine?”

“I need you to take Branch somewhere.”

* * *

“What if Creek shows up at the house while we’re gone?” Branch wondered aloud, carefully avoiding eye contact with the scrutinizing florist. He didn’t know if she recognized him or if he just looked like the ratty type that would steal something. Either way, he was getting some scary vibes from her.

Poppy, crouched over a floral display, waved a flighty hand. “Ah, don’t worry. We won’t be gone long. Besides, if he does, he can get some one on one time with Dad. Nooooow.” She scanned over the flowers and stroked gently at the petals of a pink rose bouquet. “Remember how she used to have a bunch of these in her garden? What do you think?”

“Uh.”

_Well, they hurt my heart to look at but yeah. She liked them a lot so I want them._

“They’re fine.” Branch said curtly with a nod. “How much?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She sang and she picked up the bouquet, cradling it like a baby.

“Yeah. It does. Because I don’t have a lot of money. I can’t just buy whatever I want, Poppy.”

Poppy skipped past him, placing the flowers down at the counter. She then turned to face him with a hand on her hip. “Well, I can.”

Branch rushed to the counter. “Poppy, no.”

“Poppy, yes. Poppy wants the best of the best for Rosiepuff.” She had already begun rooting around in her wallet. “You gonna tell Poppy that Poppy can’t do whatever the Hell Poppy wants?”

Branch, momentarily distracted by her strange phrasing, halted in his thoughts. “You-uh, why are you, Poppy is…um?”

Poppy slammed the notes down on the counter. The cash register _chinged_. “Too late.”

“Goddammit.”

* * *

Troll Town’s graveyard was a hidden little place, tucked away inside a forest clearing. It was silent there, as it seemed even the breeze settled to consider the dead.

“Where is she?” Poppy asked quietly, her cheerfulness not extinguished but noticeably dimmed by the sober atmosphere.

They walked along a gravelly opening and over the bumping patches of grass. Branch couldn’t count the number of times he had tracked this exact path although it had been a while since he had last been here. They approached the grave and Branch, feeling a sting at the sight of withered potted plants, bent over and laid out her flowers. He rose and stood, Poppy by his side and for the longest of minutes, they said nothing.

She broke the silence because, really, why wouldn’t she? “I’m sorry. Like it happened when I was a kid so I didn’t really know to say it then but yeah… I’m sorry you lost her.”

His sigh shook more than he intended. “You don’t need to say sorry. It wasn’t _you_ that caused it.”

“Well, yeah but…” He could feel her eyes, studying his face, puzzled. “No one caused it, Branch. It just kinda happened, y’know.”

Branch scoffed.

“Branch…”

“It doesn’t matter.” He said sharply. “It happened, it’s done.”

“Branch, you don’t think-”

“Poppy, whatever you’re going to say, that fucking therapist already said it years ago,” He raised his voice to a mocking soprano. “It wasn’t your fault, Branch. It was nobody’s fault, Branch. It was an accident!”

“It _was_ an accident!” Poppy cried, tugging at his sleeve as if to pull him down to earth.

He ripped his arm away. “No. You don’t fucking know what happened in that car, Poppy. She was just trying to concentrate on the road and I was being an annoying little shit, singing some stupid song and she turned around to look and.” He stopped abruptly, not even daring to continue. Everyone already knew how it ended. His wildly gesticulating arms fell limp.

Worrying her bottom lip, she took hold of Branch’s hands and squeezed them tight. “You were just a little kid, you didn’t know that-”

“She wasn’t the only one I killed.” He mumbled.

“What?” Poppy blinked repeatedly. “Branch, you haven’t killed anyone-”

“Branches.” He said simply. “We’re a family of unlucky charms, at least that’s what Gramma always used to say. Dad went missing before I was born. I don’t even think the case is still open but I know he sure as Hell isn’t coming back. Mom’s parents weren’t too happy with what she married into. Said the bad luck would affect her too. And it did.”

“What happened to her?”

“Me. She worked her ass off just so I’d be alright. But working so hard for a stupid ungrateful baby while trying to cope with your missing husband along with your parents constantly bitching that you made a bad choice? It-it fucked her up. It fucked her up a lot. They took her, she’s… she’s not buried here.”

Branch glanced up to read her expression.

Poppy looked almost afraid to ask. “How… how do you know all of this? Who told you?”

“Gramma tried to explain it in a way I’d understand when I was little. She sugar-coated it a lot but she didn’t want me to grow up not knowing about my family. It wasn’t until I got older that I really started to understand what it all meant. She said I was lucky.”

“Lucky?” Poppy raised a brow.

Branch nodded, feeling the tiniest trace of a smile as far purer memories resurfaced. “She never called me by my name, always called me Lucky. Because according to her, I was. When I was born, the cord, it-it…” He tapped against his throat, Poppy nodded in understanding. “But…. I made it and Gramma believed that it would have killed any other Branch but whatever God there is decided to be kind. She called me the one lucky Branch.”

Poppy giggled. “So maybe you are then.”

“I doubt it. I caused a lot of shit.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Poppy,” He began, exasperated before she threw her arms around him and held on tight. “Is this really a hug kind of time?” He asked with underlining amusement.

“Figured you could use one.” He heard her voice, muffled against his shoulder. After a moment, her head peaked up, fixed into a strained smile as she said plain and simple. “I really, really don’t know what to tell ya. I could say a million times that whatever happened to Rosiepuff and your mom wasn’t your fault but-but I know you won’t believe me.”

Branch sighed, shrugging. “Don’t worry. I’ve kind of been living with this for a while. I’m used to it.”

Poppy drew back, untangling herself from him, her shoulders drooping. “I won’t forget. I’m gonna help you not feel so bad about this one day.”

He stared at her, feeling an odd mix of guilt and admiration. He had brought her down, sucked away at her life with stories of his less than desirable past experiences but she was still trooping, still making promises to improve his happiness. Knowing Poppy, she would do so until her dying breath.

“Poppy.”

“Hm?” She glanced up, having taken a moment to stare down at the pink roses.

“Let’s go see someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not the only person here who lost someone. Where’s your mom?”

Brought upon by the question, Poppy’s eyes widened in realization before she lit up, taking him by the hand and tugging him off. “I guess it’s time for you to meet her.”

Poppy’s mother was a good stretch from Rosiepuff and once it loomed into focus, Branch felt another twinge of guilt when contrasting the two graves.

A framed photograph depicting a woman in a wheelchair. She was young, she was beautiful and with a bunch of poppy flowers bleeding red into the white of her gowned lap, she was giving the camera one of the most familiar smiles Branch had ever seen. Beside the image, were a selection of used dried up paintbrushes and several handfuls of poppies.

“They were her favourite. I didn’t know we’d be seeing her today. If I did, I would have bought some poppies.”

Branch glanced at her and noting the way the light in her eyes faded, placed his hands on her shoulders. “Well,” He said with an anticipating smile and gently pushed her forward. “I brought her a Poppy.”

It took a moment for her to get it but once she did, she laughed a laugh that may have been a tad loud for a graveyard.

Branch chuckled as he felt her shoulders shake beneath his palms.

“Some quality humor that isn’t sarcastic. I’m proud of you.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Poppy gave a final giggle and dropped down to her knees before the grave.

“She looks a lot like you.” He commented casually.

She nodded. “Dad says she was like me in a ton of ways. We’re both creative. I could never really get painting as perfect as she did but I guess I got the scrapbooking, oh! And song writing. We both wrote a lotta songs.” There was a pause. “I really, really love her.” Poppy finished softly.

“Do you-do you remember her at all?”

She shook her head. “Didn’t make it. Not after me.”

Branch suddenly picked up on a few alarm bells that seemed far too Branch-like for Poppy. “Hey, hey. You don’t think that-?”

“No, Branch.” Poppy said simply with the lightest of smiles. “I know it wasn’t my fault. For as long as I can remember, Daddy’s been telling me it wasn’t my fault.” She chuckled. “But even Dad thought I would be a bad idea at one point.”

He raised a brow. “He-he thought that?”

“He thought that. They all thought that. But Mom didn’t think that. Mom wanted me to exist. She wanted me to live so, so bad. Even when everyone kept telling her it would be a mistake. That _I_ would be a mistake. I-” She swallowed. “I almost wasn’t born ‘cause no one wanted me to be. But… but she did. Even she knew it wouldn’t go so good for her but…. she loved me. In the nine months that she knew me, she loved me more than anything. Dad says that used to sing me songs, tell me stories. She-she didn’t even get mad when I kicked her.” Inhaling deeply, Poppy’s head tilted as she stared at her mother’s image. “My mom loved me. My mom still loves me and I love my mom too.”

Branch crouched down to sit beside her but said nothing. It had been a while and he hoped that she had picked up that nothing was always an invitation to continue.

She did. “Mom was a happy lady and she would have hated if I spent all my life blamin’ myself for stuff. She wanted me to live so I could be happy. And that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna make things like she did. I’m gonna keep writing songs, I’m gonna keep busking for charity. I gotta pocket full of songs that I’m gonna sing and I’m ready to take on anything.”

“Aren’t those the lyrics to that one song you’ve been singing since you were like fifteen?”

Poppy gave him an obvious look. “Why do you think I wrote it, dumbass? Point is… I dunno how I’m gonna do it but I’m gonna make a change. Somehow.”

“Right” He said. It sounded sarcastic but Hell but Branch believed her. If Poppy decided she was going to make a change, then she was damn well going to make a change.

“But y’know.” She had plucked a single poppy flower and twirled it between her fingertips. “I kinda wish she was around. I mean, not that she isn’t but… I wish I had something like a mom just alive and hangin’, if that makes sense."

“Yeah it does.” Branch murmured. “Me too.”

_Or a Dad. Or a Grandma. Anything works really._

The funny thing was, he had thought it but never meant to say it. It just seemed the longer he spent with Poppy, the more he began to vocalize his thoughts. From the corner of his mind, he wondered if he would ever let an “I love you” slip.

_Nah._

“Huh.” Her head dropped naturally against his shoulder. “Never thought I’d relate so much to Branch the grump.”

Branch didn’t miss a beat. “Never thought I’d relate so much to Poppy the eye gouging lunatic.”

She shot up, looking flustered. “Hey, hey don’t say that in front of my mom! She’s gonna get the wrong idea about me!”

“Ma’am, your daughter poured strawberry cake mix into my chicken stir fry on seven non-consecutive occasions.”

"Branch!"

* * *

He could never say he missed Troll Town but he had to admit, he missed the times when he was comfortable in Troll Town. Back when he was small and cute and no one hated him. Those were some okay times.

Strolling down a street of pastel painted shops, Branch’s eyes flickered slightly nervously as they passed the locals. He wasn’t quite sure if they were staring perplexedly at him or Poppy, who was currently in possession of a thin, fallen tree branch that she had found outside the graveyard. He had told her to shut up before she could even try to crack a “Is this your long lost relative?” joke.

“You been gettin’ any nostalgia yet?”

He shook his head. “Really not a fan of this place.”

Poppy pouted. “Aww, c’mon! Troll Town’s a great place. We used to have a lot of fun here. You can’t tell me you don’t miss that?”

Branch folded his arms. “I don’t.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You’re closing your arms over your chest so your feelings don’t fall out.”

Branch could only squint at her. “That is one of the stupidest things you’ve ever said.”

“Or is it the wisest?” Poppy pondered serenely.

“No. Definitely the stupidest.”

She huffed. “So, nothing. You don’t miss any of the stuff we used to do around here?”

“None of it.”

“What about the games we played when we were little?”

“We played a lot of games when we were little.”

Poppy bounced out and blocked his path. “C’mon, don’t lie to me. The princess and the knight game used to be one of your favourites.”

Branch smirked. “Yeah. _Used to_. Not really a thing we could get a kick out of anymore” He scoffed, manoeuvring around her.

“What makes you so sure we wouldn’t?” Poppy jogged to keep up.

“Because we’re not kids, Poppy. We can’t just be excited about everything anymore.”

Branch heard a stomp. Proceeded by another. He stopped and turned.

Poppy was standing a few steps behind him, a tree branch still in her possession, wearing a petulant look.

“Poppy.”

“Branch. I want to play the princess and the knight game.” She demanded.

“Poppy, we’re adults. We can’t just-”

“I am the future mayor of this town and I want to play the princess and the knight game.”

“We need to go-”

_Snap._

Branch stared, speechless as the girl before him swiftly took the tree branch and broke it over her knee. Tucking her two now shorter sticks behind her back, she strolled towards him with a challenging smile and a light bounce to her step. As if doing so to intentionally chip away at his restraint, Poppy leaned over veeeery close and looked him dead in the eye. “You and me are going to play the princess and the knight game.” She said with a certain kind of simplicity that plucked at something inside him.

“Okay…”

_That’s not how you say no, idiot._

“We’re also gonna switch it up a bit.” She continued softly, keeping him locked firmly under her gaze.

“Okay.”

_You didn’t even try._

“Becaaauuse,” A signature Poppy grin worked its way into her demure expression. “This time… _you’re_ gonna be the princess.”

_No. No way in Hell. Not doing that. Fuck off._

“Okay.”

Alright, yeah. Branch could not currently breathe. Also, Poppy may have figured out a way of getting him to do things. So, that was not good.

Unable to contain her excitement, she sprung into the air before tossing him a stick. “Your sword, milady.”

Branch fumbled to catch it and bending below to pick it up, another stick shot under his neck as he rose. Poppy was aiming for what he could only assume was a fencing pose, a smirk playing along her lips. “Time to dual me, princess.” She simpered.

Suffice to say, Poppy got the head start as it took Branch several minutes to regain his thought process. But once he did, and he remembered just how competitive he could be, he was prepared to fucking _annihilate_ her.

“Ah, ah! Too slow,” He grinned, narrowly dodging one of her quick attacks. They were a good match in terms of duals, really. Branch had sharp reflexes and Poppy had the energy and drive to tire out any component. They went back and forth for quite a while.

It was Poppy that ditched, even when that was in no way, part of the rules. Branch chased her, ignoring the eyes their spectacle had caught. Somewhere, it seemed to evolve into a mix of stick sword fighting, tag and hide n’ seek as Poppy kept fucking hiding.

Giddy with adrenaline, he finally caught sight of her, bent over the park’s flowerbeds. That damn pink hair, too vivid. It would be her undoing. With the stealth of a cat he crept up and yelled a booming “Poppy!” to which she shot up like an arrow. And with that, his stick just grazed her neck. Branch smiled, triumphant. “The princess wins.”

Poppy, head tipped back in caution as if it were a real sword, smiled. “Looks like he does.” One hand that had been tucked behind her back pulled its way outward. Between her fingers and fluttering in the light breeze was a single poppy flower. “For the princess.”

There was a silence, the two standing like a pair of red painted statues. Finally, with an unsteady hand, Branch took the flower.

Poppy moved fast, immediately diving forwards and seizing hold of the princess’s hand. With a cocky grin, she slid back, bowing extravagantly and pressing the knuckles to her lips.

Branch dropped his stick.

She picked it up easily and poked it casually against his neck. “The knight wins.” She whispered.

_Yup. The knight wins. The knight wins at everything in life. The knight is all in this world. The knight can take my wallet._

“Fine.” He tried to level his voice but it still came across as too breathy for his liking. “The knight wins.” She was still too close and Branch actually had to push her away by the nose just so he could concentrate again. “Can we go back to your house now?”

“Uhhh…” Poppy was bright pink as if her actions only now seemed to have caught up with her. “Juuust,” She looked at him hopefully. “Just one more thing?”

“What?” He groaned.

“Lemme carry you home.”

“What? No!”

“But Braaaanch, you’re the princeeeeeess.” She whined.

Branch gestured wildly between both their frames, unable to even articulate. “You’re-you’re-how would that even work?”

Poppy flexed. “I’m strong.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I can do it, just lemme prove it.”

“No.”

She seized his hand and locked gazes once again. “Please?” She tried.

_Well, fuck._

The process was… smoother than he imagined. It had been quick with the help of a nearby bench and with one steady grunt, Poppy successfully had Branch cradled under her arms.

He had absolutely no idea how this was possible and his entire life now rested in the strength of a tiny framed girl with a short attention span and pink fucking hair.

“I’m going to die.” He spluttered, trying and failing to keep the squeak out if his voice as his arms instinctively wound around Poppy’s neck.

The smartass thought rocking him would soothe his nerves. Not saying it didn’t but… he still glared at her.

“Come on, my man.” Poppy said through an alarmingly strained tone as she began to walk. “You can’t say you don’t like this a little bit.”

_Well…_

“No.” Branch said stubbornly. “Don’t drop me.”

“I’m not gonna drop you.” She assured him.

She dropped him.

Branch’s rear smashed against concrete.

Poppy had to bite down on her whole fist as not to giggle at his howl. She was tearing up with laughter as she choked through her apology.

Branch stated that he didn’t know if he would ever trust her again in his life.

She asked to try again.

He very loudly declined.

She took his hand.

He sighed.

Alright, one more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRTTTT  
> [My reason for living](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/157534844648)
> 
> [THE BEST GIRLS <333](http://azahlea-valonir.tumblr.com/post/157457110332)
> 
> [Sparkle Man](http://frootpunch.tumblr.com/post/157333396126)
> 
> [Grouch man and Zen Man](https://anyalove16.tumblr.com/post/157251676374)
> 
> [the mcfuckign cREW](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/157251140038)
> 
> GIVE THE PEEPS NOTES, THEY ARE THE SWEETEST OF PEEPS I SWEAR
> 
> Oh, also check out jinelys_art on Instagram as they have been apparently making art of the fic, which I was only made aware of today. I don't have an Instagram but to those of you who do, follow em, their art is super cute.


	14. Chapter 14

Danielle Whittington.

A schoolgirl from Essex whose world revolved around test marks, the clunking of sturdy Mary Janes and a pinching skull from the tightness of her braids. Nothing particularly remarkable to define her, in Creek’s opinion but somehow, she caught Sunny’s eye.

Sunny wasn’t much either. A grubby, beaded haired hippie whose trouser pockets rattled weakly with his entire income, and who based his life choices on the faintest gusts of wind. He liked to travel. How he managed to hop around the world with barely a penny to his name, was anyone’s guess.

They were a pair of young, reckless people. If Creek ever found himself forced to give sincere advice, he would say to avoid love like the plague. All it wound up doing was tearing lives and families apart.

Parents didn’t like hippies as Danielle soon discovered. But Danielle had a bit of a problem with naivety and mistook every casual “I love you” for something far deeper. Her parents declined but she insisted and in the end, Danielle was tossed out with as much consideration as their leftovers from dinner.

One name change and marriage document later and Sunny and Dandelion “Dandi” Loose had settled themselves in Troll Town.

And it was all downhill from there.

Silkily manoeuvring through the busy sidewalk, Creek glared down at his persistently buzzing phone as a line of texts appeared. Who knew antique dealers could be so impatient?

He had never wanted a phone in the first place. They were annoying, addicting little devices that sucked your soul through a screen and prevented you from seeing the true beauty the world had to offer. Creek hated his phone. It caused him nothing but mild heart failures but…. he needed it. If he didn’t have it, his Mum couldn’t call him at all. And that would be an even worse state of panic.

Thank God Poppy hadn’t been too insistent on dropping him off at his doorstep, he thought as he was greeted to the sight of an unruly and overgrown front lawn. The woman couldn’t even bring herself to figure out how the lawnmower worked. Creek could only sigh, resigned.

Emptying the overflowing mailbox and tucking the letters under his arm, he reached the porch. Soil spilled from discarded flowerpots softened the floorboards and the familiar tinkling of wind chimes fell on immune eardrums.

Had he expected her to look after the house? No.

Was he still disappointed? More and more, each day.

The door wasn’t locked because why would it be? Creek had only told her a good seventeen times to keep it locked in case she got robbed again. But then again, Dandi was not the kind of person who learned from her mistakes.

Creek planted the bundle of mail down on the cluttered hall table and took a turn into the living room. He didn’t call for her. Didn’t need to. Since he was a child, he would usually find his mother in the exact same place.

Dandi was spread out on the couch, dead to the world. She was a stout, squishy kind of woman who dressed in baggy clothing. (Probably the garments Sunny left behind) Her wheat colored curls were frazzled and clashed with streaks of blue and violet and the grey that grew more noticeable every time he saw her. Her glasses hung lopsided, her face pale. If you asked Creek, she was a pathetic excuse for a parent.

Ignoring the lingering stench of whatever she had been inhaling this week, Creek took hold of a cushion and thwacked at her form. “Get up.”

Dandi groaned.

“Mum, you need to get up.”

A resistant grunt.

“Mum!” He shouted.

Dandi’s eyes snapped open, releasing a strangled gasp. Her hand felt about confusedly, finally finding Creek’s as he helped her into a sitting position. For a moment, she could only blink and stare blankly at the boy before her until she regained a trace of reality. Once she did, her tired face brightened. “Creeky!” Her fingers tightened around his hands. “Ahh, my little chicken has come back to me.” She cooed. “The house just hasn’t been the same.”

“So, you _did_ miss me?” Creek inquired with a strained smile, holding up his phone. “Had me fooled.”

Dandi stumbled into some nonsensical explanation only to be halted by Creek’s silencing gesture. “It’s fine.” He said curtly. “It’s really fine. Just….” He glanced up to examine his mother’s milk white face. “Have you-have you eaten today?”

Dandi’s expression scrunched up as she tried to recall. All she could offer was a perplexed look.

Creek nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, that’s fine. Come into the kitchen. I’m sure we have something.”

Turns out they didn’t have something.

After scanning the fridge and discovering a carton of spoiled milk and molding bread and cheese, Creek spent a good few minutes throwing away food and pouring the chunky liquid down the drain.

“I-I did mean to throw that out earlier but…” Dandi trailed off.

“I know, I know. You forget things.” Creek muttered, checking the expiration date on a can of fruit cocktail that he had found in the cupboard. It would do. Spilling it into a bowl and running a spotted fork under the sink, he placed the best attempt at lunch on the table before his mother. “Please just eat it.”

Dandi did so, stabbing a chunk of pineapple and popping it in her mouth. She chewed in silence, the only sound being her son, sitting across from her, his thumbs prodding irritably against his phone screen.

“Where is he?”

Creek glanced up with a raised brow. “Where’s who?”

“Um…the-the other boy. Your best friend, the sparkly one. Um, oh, uh Crystal Boy!”

“Guy Diamond.”

“Guy Diamond, yes! Where’s he?”

Creek shrugged. “Do you really think I keep tabs on him?”

“Well, usually he’s right next to you. Did he not drive you here?” Dandi’s face dimmed. “Did you boys have a fight?”

“No.” Creek said sharply. “I just haven’t been talking to him since last night. Everything’s fine.” As he spoke, he typed in another “You’re being very immature” in his (one sided) conversation with Guy. The blasted glittery idiot hadn’t been answering him at all since Creek told him to go choke and now he was ignoring him, expecting Creek to care. Guy Diamond was a piece of work.

_A piece of work who doesn’t answer your goddamn calls._

_And he’s not the only one._

Creek sighed. “Listen,” He began, setting his phone down. “Living in Bergen Town is stressful, alright? College is stressful. I have to deal with work, I have to get a hold of the money for my restaurant. I need-”

“Have you been keeping up with your yoga, dear? You know it does wonders to relax you.”

“Yes, I have but-”

“And you’ve given up on the fags, haven’t you?” Dandi prodded.

Creek’s thoughts flew to the box of cigarettes in his pocket. “.... yes. But listen, it doesn’t matter what I do. If I’m going to stay calm, I just, I just…” He looked up at his mother, pleading. “I need you to talk to me, Mum. I need you to talk to me every day. Please.”

“Creeky,” Dandi said, exasperated. “You know I love you so, so much but _every time_ you call me, all you do is tell me to eat, tell me to sleep, tell me to be careful. Darling, you’re a sweet boy but you’re a complete nag.” She laughed lightly. “I mean you’re not even twenty and you’re already acting like a parent.”

“Because you bloody need a parent.” Creek retorted through gritted teeth, trying to cool his boiling blood.

_Serenity. That’s your thing. Please remember._

“Mum, do you really think I’m always calling just because I want to annoy you?”

Dandi smiled an easy smile that jabbed at his patience. “No, dear. I know you mean well. You’re just looking out for your mother but…” She stuffed another forkful of fruit into her mouth. “I’m a grown woman.” She said through a full mouth before swallowing. “I can look after myself.”

“No, you can’t!” He tried and failed to keep the agitated squeak from his tone. “Mum, the last time you were left alone, what happened?”

“Creek, it was an accident. It’s not your fault it happened, it’s not my fault it-”

“You split your head!”

“But it was fine!” Dandi cried hurriedly. “I got to the ER, everything went fine.”

Creek snapped.

“I was halfway across the country, Mum! I knew damn well I shouldn’t have gone on the school trip in the first place but you said you would call me. But you didn’t. Do you know who did?” Creek struck her with a humourless smile. “The neighbours did. With your phone. I-I did not take it well. I lost my shit, Mum. And guess what? People saw. The teachers saw, Guy Diamond saw. Do you know how hard I try to not lose my shit? But it happened!” Creek leaned back in his chair with a careless throw of his arms. He forced a chuckle. “So yes, my lowest moment was caused by you. Thank you for that.”

Silence.

The two sat, settled in the aftermath of his outburst until his mother spoke.

“Creeky…. I don’t know what to tell you.” Dandi uttered tightly, scraping nervously at the skin of her thumb. “It’s been years and you’re still hanging on to it, if we could just keep it in the past-”

“Keep it in the past?! Mum, believe me, I would _love_ to keep it in the past.” Creek stood, the legs of his chair screeching against the tiles. Not very serene. “But keeping it in the past doesn’t mean forgetting it. I don’t want it to happen again, Mum and I’m always afraid it will. I’ll be honest, when you don’t call me, I sometimes think you’re dead. It’s become so much of a problem that every time you do call me, I think you’re dead and-and it’s just the neighbours again.”

“Creek-”

“I don’t want to live like this, in case you think I do. I have other things to worry about but every damn day, I end up thinking about this stupid house and this,” He shot a sharp open palm at her, well and truly angry now. “This-this stupid woman who can’t just look after herself like a reasonable adult should.”

Dandi reached out to seize Creek’s rapidly gesticulating hand. “Darling, just-just take a deep breath-”

He tore himself free from her grip. “No.” He said flatly. “No, no, no, no. I’m done. I’m fine. I just need a minute. Eat your goddamn fruit, alright, Mum?” Creek didn’t wait for any sort of response before he exited the kitchen. As he turned on his heel, he heard the chair squeak as Dandi lowered herself.

His instinctively gravitated towards his old bedroom, truly the quietest and least draining room of the house. Swinging the door open, he felt a significant stab in the heart. Vacant.

Creek’s shoulders slumped. He had taken all his belongings to Bergen Town, every little comfort possession was gone. Even his mattress.

The room he stepped into was a pale shade of lilac, illuminated by the high sun leaking through the blinds. All that remained was a rickety desk, a beanbag, a single dreamcatcher hung by the window and a cardboard box of miscellanies. Creek crouched over to rummage inside. A comb, four beaded necklaces, a pair of yoga pants, a couple of magazines that he wisely didn’t touch, hair scrunchies and a solidary red toy car. Quite possibly his least favourite item of the lot. Naturally, Creek picked it up, weighing the toy beneath his palm. He rose, the car juggling between both hands, finding that his legs longed to burn holes in the floor.

Creek had done a lot of pacing in his life for a variety of reasons. Sometimes, it helped. Sometimes, it didn’t. But staying calm was important to him. If he wasn’t calm, people would see things. People would find weak points. They would poke at weak points. They would bring everything he had down and Creek could not have that. Control. He needed control. Smooth, flowing and under control. And he could achieve that. If he just. Stayed. Calm.

It was alright. There were plenty of things he had under control and going over them, always soothed his nerves.

He could keep Branch under control using his F.B Blue alias.

He could keep Poppy under control by playing with her guilt complex.

He could keep Gristle under control by stroking his ego.

He could keep Gristle’s girlfriend under control by…. alright, Creek wasn’t sure about Bridget yet. She had given him the dirtiest look last night but it was fine. The girl was nervous and insecure. It wouldn’t be difficult to find a weak point to exploit. Bridget wasn’t going to do any damage.

The Snack Pack were idiots so he was safe in that regard.

Guy Diamond though.

Fuck.

In retrospect, Creek should have stopped talking to Guy Diamond once he realized that he would not be easy to manipulate. That would have been the smart thing to do. But emotions ruin everything. So, Guy was still prancing around like a goddamn pixie, with knowledge he should not have concerning Creek, and a personality with an infuriating lack of strings for Creek to pull at.

_Blackmail?_

Nope. Can’t do that. Firstly, Guy Diamond was far too open for Creek to find something to blackmail him with. Secondly, he didn’t want to. Like he said, emotions ruin everything. The will to use, especially.

Okay, but if Guy wasn’t speaking to him than maybe he wouldn’t get it in the way.

But the thing about Guy ignoring him was, he was doing it to specifically annoy Creek, like the melodramatic child that he was. But he wasn’t annoying him. Creek couldn’t give less of a shit if Guy was ignoring him and Creek had been _trying_ to express his disinterest in the argument since last night but he couldn’t get the message through because Guy. Was. Ignoring him.

Creek momentarily tipped his head to the ceiling with a groan, still fiddling with the toy in his hands.

Why did he come here? He hated this house, he hated that woman, he hated the car in his hands, he hated his bloody empty room, it was a bad idea from the start. If he stayed back in Bergen Town, he could have at least gotten his menus partly planned. Not to mention, Guy lived close enough that Creek could personally confront him to get message of neutrality across. But no, he just _had_ to be worried about his mum so now he was stuck here until tomorrow. His fucking mattress wasn’t even here. Where would he sleep?

Unable to tolerate the sheer emptiness of the room, Creek wandered out into the hallway. He slid his hands into his pockets, dropping the car into the pouch and stared, blank faced at the chain of framed images that Dandi had hung along the wall.

She had told him once that Creek’s entire childhood would be spread along the house in a series of photographs. But the thing about Dandi was, she forgot a lot of things.

There were currently one two pictures of Creek. The obligatory ‘Snapping a shot of my naked infant in the sink’ and one from the first day of sixth grade. Creek, Suki and Guy. The image was sun bleached from the nearby window which gave it a particularly aged appearance but it was the dull natural hair on all three of them that made the scene personally feel ‘Of the Past’.

Quite frankly, Creek wanted to smash the picture. He was sick of Guy Diamond’s face and understandably, did not want it in his home. It’s not like Dandi would care. He could do it. He could pick it up right now and throw it against a wall. He would.

The seconds ticked away in an intense staring contest between Creek and three carefree twelve-year-old faces.

Finally, he sighed, tearing his gaze away from the image and drifting further down the hall.

While Dandi allowed the planned Creek timeline to slip her mind, her list of quick fucks was apparently worth adoring the wall with. He strolled across the stained carpet, tired eyes settling on every familiar but expendable face. The boyfriends came and went, no matter how certain Dandi was that the next would be “The One.”

She was sickeningly idealistic when it came to the boyfriends. Creek had been requested to refer to each of them as Dad.

Henry had been just as giddy about the whole thing as Dandi. Creek could vaguely remember the man swinging a clumsy arm around his shoulder and calling him son. This peachy new family scene lasted a total of ten minutes before Henry’s wife called to accuse him of cheating.

Dylan was indifferent. Creek knew from the moment he met him that Dandi had adopted a hopeless stoner off the street like he was some sort of stray cat. He wasn’t even sure if the two of them officially broke up. Dandi just left the back door open one day and Dylan wandered out, never to be heard from again.

And then there was Evan. Creek halted before Evan’s picture, his fingers instinctively reaching up to massage his throat. While he would always agree with the notion that toying around with someone’s mind could be both harmless and beneficial, Evan had left Creek with a very, _very_ anti-violence perspective.

But no one had done more damage than Sunny. He could hear the faint twittering of birds from outside as Creek gazed up at his father’s image.

Nothing really to say about the man except… he had some cold feet. Maybe if he put on some shoes, he could solve that problem.

Sunny had not considered children. Sunny didn’t understand the cost for children. So, Sunny avoided the topic of things he didn’t understand. Unluckily for him, Dandi had a bit of a surprise. It turned out their romantic night of shenanigans by the forest creek had left them with an unwanted souvenir. With as much of a backbone as an earthworm, Sunny was gone. He rolled his van out the driveway, running over the remaining shards of Dandi’s heart.

He was a sleazy, lazy, cowardly man.

“You look a lot like him.” Came an affectionate mumble from his side.

Dandi stood by him, gazing up at Sunny with a fond smile, as if their previous argument was forgotten. Knowing Dandi, that was actually quite likely.

 “Stop telling me that.” Creek replied quietly.

“What?” She laughed disbelievingly, poking at her much taller son’s forearm. “Creeky, it’s true. And you don’t want me to tell you? I mean, you have his height, his nose, his eyes.”

“I don’t need you telling me I look like Sunny-”

“Dad. He’s your dad.”

_Well maybe, he should bloody act like it._

Creek ground his teeth, trying to keep himself from yelling again. “Right.” He said with faux patience. “ _Dad_. I don’t like to be reminded that I look like Dad. I’m sorry but is this not the man who fucked off without a care-?”

“Creek.” Dandi’s wavering voice strengthened just a tad. “He’s not going to be gone forever, he was-he was just overwhelmed with the thought-”

“Stop. Fucking. Sympathizing with him!” Creek hissed. “Mum, I’ve been trying to tell you this for years, he’s not coming back.”

“Sunny loves me, he loves you.” Dandi scrabbled to find efficient phrasing when it looked like all she wanted to do was break down.

“No. No, he does not.” Creek replied slowly, his eyes locked firmly on the wall because in all honesty, he did not want to look at his mother right now. “I’m going to say this in a way you’ll understand. Sunny-”

“Dad!”

“ _Sunny_ left. He left because he wasn’t a man of commitment. He left his wife behind. He lacked empathy, you see. His wife lacked common sense. She also had a terrible judge of character. She spent several years moping about how much she missed him. She constantly cried to her child like he was some sort of therapist. Guess what, Mum?” Creek’s tone grew more and more bitter by the word “Her child was not a therapist. He was just trying to be an optimist and wanted his mum to stop being so sad all the time. He tried to convince her that Dad would come back someday. I never fucking believed it, I was just exhausted, Mum! You kept me up all night!”

Dandi tried and failed to speak but judging by the way her lips quivered, all that would come out was a sob. At this point, Creek was venting too much to even care.

“But you went and believed me because you were an idiot! You were a goddamn idiot. You let your life spiral out of control and you were always expecting me to fix it.” Creek took a deep inhale, stung by the burning of his throat. “I’m just trying to live my life, Mum.” He continued softly. “I’m trying to grow up. But I can’t just keep coming back here to clean up your messes.”

He didn’t even need to look at her. The sniffles he heard told him everything. Creek remained in place as Dandi, shielding her sobbing face, retreated. With the remaining traces of his fury, he glared up at Sunny.

_This is all your fault._

Creek did his best to be considerate and reeled in any toxic emotions before he returned to his mother’s side. Peering into the living room doorway, he found her face shoved into a cushion, shoulders wracking.

He had very mixed feelings towards tears. Poppy’s tears meant a weaker mold, easier to shape. Convenient. The same went for any other Snack Pack member that Creek needed something from. In his own opinion, tears were handy.

But this was his Mum…

Without a word, Creek lowered himself on the couch. Not too close to her. The last thing he wanted was a hug. Shuffling uncomfortably at the déjà vu this exact moment brought him, he kept his eyes trained on the swirling pattern of the carpet. The familiarity made him sleepy. He recalled being ten and being woken by a drunken Dandi who needed to cry over Sunny again. She drained any trace of sympathy from his entire being and as the night carried on, Creek just felt numb. Even years later, he could still feel her shaking arms tightened around his thin shoulders. To Dandi, her little boy could always soothe all her worries.

“I’m going to get you help.” Creek uttered after a long stretch of silence.

Dandi peeked up, revealing a blotched face. “What help?” She asked through an unsteady breath.

“My restaurant. I… I haven’t gotten it yet but I’m going to get it all paid off soon and-”

“Creeky,” She murmured cautiously, wiping the dampness from her eyes. “Where are you getting the money for this?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. It doesn’t matter.” He waved a casual hand, before leaning closer to take Dandi by the arms. “But listen. I have experience working in Chef’s. Chef thinks the world of me. The most popular food critic is Bergen Town is my friend now. When I get the place up and running,” Creek didn’t realize he was bouncing in his seat until the heard the faintest squeak. “It’s going to be _extremely_ successful.”

Dandi’s cracked expression softened as she took in her son’s bright grin. “You’re excited.” She stated matter of factly. “It’s funny. I never get to see you excited over anything anymore. This is quite nice.”

Creek chuckled. “I’ve been trying to get this set up for years and now it’s just so close but…” His shoulders drooped suddenly. “But-but that’s not the reason I’m telling you this. When…. when this business of mine takes off, Mum, I’ll find you help. I’ll be able to afford it. You’ll be able to get your life in order. But I need you to agree to it first.”

She gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Of course I will, dear.”

“You’re lying.” Creek didn’t miss a beat.

Dandi shot back in the couch, looking slightly offended. “Creek! Wha-Why would your mother lie to you?”

He gave her an exasperated look. “You don’t know you’re lying. But this has happened before. Every time I talk about finding you help, you’re on board. But the second I actually find that help, you’re suddenly on edge. We can’t keep doing this, Mum. You need to agree to it.”

“Alright… I suppose you have a point, m’dear.” She sighed, her hands traveling upwards to cup Creek’s face. Squinting slightly, she pulled his face closer to her line of vision. “I’m not a good role model, am I? But look at you, even with me, you’ve grown into a kind, loving, honest boy.”

_Honest._

Creek’s head dropped, releasing a few breathy snickers.

“What in the name of God are you laughing at?” He heard her ask, a smile in her voice.

Creek shook his head, the shadow of an amused grin still evident. “I don’t know. I think I’m just tired.”

“O-oh, Creek.” Dandi simpered sympathetically. “Your bed’s not here, dear. I-I suppose you could sleep on the couch but-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” He stood, adjusting the strings of his loose pants. “I’ll stay over at a friend’s house.”

“Creeky?”

He turned.

“How did you get here if you didn’t… come with the glitter boy?”

“Poppy.” Creek shrugged as he strolled out into the hall. “You know her, yeah? Mayor’s daughter. Pink hair. Hard to miss.”

“I know, I know the girl, Creek.” Dandi responded, sounding a tad irritated as she followed him out of the room. “Are you… are you acquainted with her, dear?”

“I’d say acquainted enough, seeing as she drove me here.”

“Stop being smart.”

“Stop giving me an opening.”

“Creek, listen.”

Creek halted with a hand over the front door handle, the other settled in his pocket, fingers curled around the toy car. “Listening.”

Dandi brought herself up to stand before him. It often surprised him just how short she was these days. Or maybe Creek had just grown taller. “You still haven’t met anyone in college, have you?”

Creek raised a brow. “Besides the odd ten people I’ve told you about?”

“You know what I mean, Creeky. A girlfriend! Or-or a boyfriend. Creek, dear, you know I really don’t mind what your-”

“No.” Creek cut through curtly. “The answer is still no. Please stop asking me, Mum. I’ve told you already. I don’t have the time or the interest.”

Dandi pouted. “No one, then?”

_Pfft. Honest._

“Not a soul.”

His mother said nothing, looking significantly put out.

“So… may I leave now or…?”

She shook her head, beckoning him towards her.

Creek did as ordered but as he approached, she pointed her finger downwards. He crouched to meet her eye level with an unconcealed smirk.

Dandi lit up at the sight of his face and pressed a kiss to his forehead and a “Boop!” to his nose. After that, he was given permission to leave.

“I love you!” Dandi called, waving from the porch. Creek, already insistent on getting as far away from the house as possible, offered a thumbs up in response.

* * *

Love and resentment were two very strong emotions that could become very sticky once mixed. Creek felt the two on a regular basis and the feeling alone caused more migraines than he personally appreciated.

Whatever went on in that household was a result of Creek being too young and inexperienced to seize control. Everything had fallen apart, his mother had fallen apart.

But there would not be any more chaos in Creek’s life. Not if he meddled enough.

There was a saying somewhere. You couldn’t change the course of a meandering river. Creek disagreed. With enough sticks and stones and dedication, he could straighten that river to go in whatever direction he pleased. It wasn’t as though he could hold it forever but… just long enough for him to cross.

He had missed Troll Town. The place had its own little charms, Creek thought as he wandered through the park, encased in the lush scenery. With the light of the sun, he examined the toy car in his hands, taking note of the scrapes of grey under the cheap red paint and the weak plastic wheels that could probably be snapped off without a second thought. How had it lasted this long? It seemed to be an object little Creek took very good care of.

He heard them before he saw them. Poppy’s screeching laughter and Branch’s booming objections. Creek spotted the two from a distance. Branch was standing on a bench while Poppy hovered below with her arms out eagerly. Was she trying to carry him?

Creek watched the spectacle with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Could they not keep their borderline desperate attraction under their hats for another week, at least? That was all Creek needed. Was that too much to ask?

But it was fine. He had F.B Blue on Branch, he had emotions on Poppy and if all else failed, he had his mother.

Creek had been weighing out his options quite frequently and while he would prefer to keep his familial situation to himself, he was prepared to use it if the need arose.

What good was being stuck with unfortunate circumstances if they couldn’t be used as an advantage? Creek was nothing if not innovative.

In one swift motion, he dumped his old toy in a nearby waste bin and strolled in the opposite direction.

If he could just keep control, everything would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART  
> [fAM](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/157801598648)
> 
> [Princess and his knight<3](http://azahlea-valonir.tumblr.com/post/157727088142)
> 
> [HEIGHT DIFFERENCE](http://lastoneout.tumblr.com/post/157600960630)


	15. Chapter 15

Fuzzbert did not like Creek.

Weird in Poppy’s opinion. After all, Creek _had_ been present when the Snack Pack adopted the Pomeranian puppy all those years ago, and she couldn’t recall little Fuzz being even remotely antagonistic towards him back then.

It shocked everyone, Creek included, when he returned from his mother’s house and one of the first greetings came in the form of a low growl from the tired, old canine in Poppy’s lap.

“Well, that’s odd.” Peppy commented, entering the living room with a tray of hot chocolate. “He hasn’t barked or even growled at anyone in months. Hasn’t had the energy.” He stopped by the couch, giving Creek a once-over. “Never kicked him, have you, boy? Whacked him? Stole his food? Some dogs hold a grudge, y’know.”

Creek shook his head. “Search me. I loved Fuzz back when we were children. I pet him every day.”

Peppy squinted but didn’t press the subject, instead setting the mugs down on the coffee table, taking one for himself and falling into the groove of his armchair.

Branch, who was sitting on the floor with his back pressed against Poppy’s knees, glanced up from his phone. Wearing a smirk, he twisted around to scratch behind Fuzzbert’s ears.

“You look awful happy about something, Branch.” Creek observed, lowering himself on the cushion next to Poppy but immediately shooting up at the dog’s sudden yelp of indignation.

Branch chuckled. “Yeah. I’m starting to like this mutt.”

Creek was forced to sit at the other end of the room, much to Branch’s poorly hidden satisfaction. “Fuzzy likes you too,” Poppy raised Fuzzbert up and smushed his nose against Branch’s. He received a kiss of pure saliva which he swiftly wiped away with a complaint about bacteria.

She giggled. “But I bet he’s still got some hang ups about you ignoring him so much when we were little.”

“I just don’t like small, yappy dogs in general. Never did. Is that a crime?”

Poppy nodded sharply before holding the dog up to his face again. “Apologize at once.”

Branch rolled his eyes but complied. “Fuzzbert. I am sorry for being a dick when-”

“Fuzz is an old man now and does not care for that kind of language, Branch.”

“Hey!” Peppy piped up from his armchair. “Is my own daughter suggesting that old men don’t use profanity? Where do you think you kids learned it from? Poppy, I said ‘Fuck’ once by accident when you were two and you were screaming it in the grocery store for weeks!”

“You still scream ‘Fuck’ in the grocery store sometimes.” Branch teased.

“Everybody shush! We can talk about my charming baby adventures later. Branch needs to say sorry to Fuzzbert.”

“Sorry, Fuzzbert.”

Poppy beamed. “Okay, now you’ve earned some bonding time with him.” She handed Fuzz to Branch as she stood to retrieve their hot chocolates.

He didn’t object as he was passed the dog, instead crossing his legs so Fuzz had a more comfortable sitting position as Poppy handed him his drink.

There was a subdued moment of sweet sipping before Peppy piped up. “So, I suppose I gotta find a way to entertain you kids before bedtime?”

Poppy chuckled, wiping a chocolate moustache from her upper lip. “Looks like it. Whatcha got to keep us from gettin’ too rowdy, Daddy?”

* * *

Peppy and Poppy were a pair of devoted board game players. ‘Devoted’ meaning that they never stopped trying to finish a game, even when all prior times, they wound up in a heated battle and throwing plastic pieces and crumpled up pastel currency at each other from across the room.

Hopefully Branch and Creek could keep the two of then focused.

“Monopoly, eh?” Creek had followed her to the games cupboard. He peered over her shoulder with a wide smile, as she dusted off the mint green box. “Brilliant. One of my favourites.”

“Really?” Poppy turned to face him, quirking a brow. “No offense, my guru man, but this doesn’t seem like your kinda game. All about money and business and bankruptcy, isn’t it? You’re more free love, world peace, all that jazz, right?”

Creek shrugged. “Are you saying I don’t have it in me to be a stone-cold business man, Poppy?” He asked playfully, looming into her space.

Poppy took an instinctive step back before realizing her error and standing firmly in her spot. Creek was just joking around after all. She really needed to stop being so uptight in his company. They had talked about this.

“I’m just sayin’, Creek,” She achieved a trace of bounciness to her tone. “You don’t seem like the Monopoly type.”

He chuckled. “May I have permission to prove you wrong?”

Poppy smirked, rolling her shoulders to try loosening them up. “May I have permission to totally annihilate you and leave you in shambles?” She shot back.

“Well,” Creek leered closer to her face. “How about we just see what happens?”

He took that second of silence to swoop in and catch her lips.

Poppy fought the urge to divide them with the Monopoly box.

One of the more frustrating things that came with visiting her old home, was a lot of memories returned in waves. Nothing life-changing but instead the little things that stood out as prominent.

Poppy never liked broccoli. It was, unarguably, her least favourite vegetable. But sitting with her little legs dangling over her chair, pouting down at her portion of greens, she made the decision to hastily scarf them down without complaint. As Dad had said, no greens, no dessert.

Sometimes, you just gotta bear it for the greater good.

With the ghost taste of broccoli in her mouth, Poppy heightened herself on her toes and poured as much enthusiasm into the kiss, as she could muster.

Creek seemed satisfied with this response.

There they were again.

The hands.

On her waist, this time.

“Something wrong?” He breathed, pulling away.

Poppy hadn’t realized how noticeable her recoil was. “Uhh…”

“Ah,” He glanced down at her hips. “I understand.”

And just like that, the hands were gone.

Creek held them up, in an almost surrendering motion. “I said I wouldn’t do that without your say-so, didn’t I?”

Poppy fidgeted in place, her fingers curled over the box and scratching at the peeling cardboard. “Yeah… sorry ‘bout that, bud.” She mumbled. “I don’t wanna make you feel bad but it still feels kinda weird.”

Creek nodded. “It’s perfectly alright. I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to be comfortable again.” He said earnestly.

His words stabbed (rather unpleasantly) at her heart. “You… you’re actually gonna do that? Listen, you gotta understand. I dunno how weird I’m gonna be about this whole thing. I don’t even understand how my brain and feelings work. It’s a mess! It’s always been a mess, Creek!”

Careful to keep a respectful distance, his hands weighed down on her shoulders. “Poppy. It’s fine. I don’t mind waiting.”

His attempt to ground her were, in all honesty, fruitless.

Poppy’s mind was still racing with a confusing concoction of emotions. “Are-are you sure?”

Creek chuckled. “Of course. I can’t see something as small as this getting you worked up for too long. You’re a happy girl, after all.”

_Welp. ‘Happy Girl.’ Is kinda what I’m striving for but it’s more of an aforementioned title than a personality trait these days._

“Yep, yep, yep.” She babbled thoughtlessly to clear away those pesky bad vibes. “Th-that’s me. Yep, yep. Just give me a little while and I’ll be over this. It’s all fine.”

“All fine.” Creek repeated cheerfully.

He was far too understanding to be tangled up in this muddle of a situation.

“Sooooooo,” Poppy dragged out, trying to end this conversation in a way that didn’t feel too abrupt. She lightly shook the Monopoly box, drawing Creek’s attention to the sound of jangling contents. “Wasn’t I saying I was gonna annihilate you?”

Creek grinned. “That you were. Come on, let’s go set it up and see who gets annihilated.”

As they crossed the hallway, Poppy managed to reach up and ruffle through Creek’s hair. “Hey,”

“Yes?” His hands had immediately shot up to flatten the frizzed-up mane that she had caused.

“Thank you. You’re a great boyfriend, you know that?”

Creek hummed an affirmation, still preoccupied with taming his hair. “I love you.” He finally responded, after having stopped by the hall mirror to inspect the damage.

Poppy chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. “Love you too.” She muttered.

It wasn’t a lie. Well, not really. She did love Creek. She couldn’t not love him after knowing him so long. But she doubted that the love they were each referencing, were the same thing. A year ago, she may have disagreed but while Poppy still got confused by feelings of all sorts, she fancied herself a little bit smarter now.

However, that didn’t stop her from digging herself into holes, and having to listen to her common-sense scream at her against it. She knew she shouldn’t be dating Creek anymore. But the aftermath of a breakup still kept her paralyzed in an external state of denial.

To put her feelings into simple terms. Poppy was awful and was currently being unnecessarily unfair to Creek by dragging this relationship out for so long. Creek was kind and considerate and did not deserve any of this.

One small issue had unintentionally manifested and created a wedge between Poppy and Creek.

As they returned to the living room, she laid eyes on the issue himself. He was still seated in his spot on the floor with a mug of hot chocolate and Fuzzbert blinking drowsily in his lap. Branch and her father were mid conversation and as Peppy chatted away, the sincere smile that popped Branch’s dimple was difficult to ignore.

Poppy had to take a moment to compose herself. (Well, as composed as Poppy can be.) If the goddamn boy just smiled more often, this wouldn’t necessarily have to be such a breath-taking occurrence. But Branch just _had_ to make this hard, didn’t he?

She stomped towards them with a little more aggression than needed, slammed herself down on the carpet beside Branch and grabbed her mug. With her gaze locked on the coffee table, as Creek began setting up the game, she caught the motion of Peppy and Branch exchanging a glance, out of the corner of her eye.

“Uh. Hi?” Branch inquired cautiously.

She turned to face him, his expression only growing more perplexed at the sight of her overly exaggerated scowl.

“You are causing me a lotta problems, buddy.” She blurted out, unable to mask the irritation.

Branch, bless him, didn’t take this to heart. Instead, he just rolled his eyes. Truly a man who was used to Poppy saying bizarre things. “Good.” He raised a hand which settled atop her head with a light tousle. “We’re even.”

_Can’t even stay mad at this nerd for twenty fucking seconds. Unbelievable!_

Her hardened face cracked, a persistent smile fighting its way into her features. But even as her insides warmed with just Branch’s presence alone, the guilt didn’t subside.

Poppy flirted with Branch a little today.

… Poppy flirted with Branch _a lot_ today.

The games, the flowers, the hand kisses. She carried him bridal style for God’s sake.

Poppy had no excuse. This wasn’t something she could justify. There was something addicting about time spent with Branch. When conversations melted into one thing or another so easily, the lowering of emotional barriers happened a lot subtler and even unnoticeable to the people in question. She became absorbed in him and him alone and once their words grew more in depth, honest thoughts were shared, secrets were spilled and you know what? Accidental flirting happened. On Poppy’s part, anyway.

Branch was not someone she could avoid. They had both learned the hard way that when separated, it was a complete disaster. Poppy needed Branch and she knew damn well that he needed her too. Ignoring him was simply out of the question.

But if she were to try and hold back? Odds are, Poppy’s attempts would come across as awkward. The last thing she wanted was their friendship strained. Whatever she had going on with Creek was unbearable enough.

Okay. Thinking so much was giving her a headache.

“What are you doing?”

Poppy snapped out of her thoughts at Branch’s light prod to her shoulder. She gazed down bemusedly at her hot chocolate that hovered an inch below her lips, while she had been apparently drumming rapidly at the mug.

She blinked at the sweet, steaming liquid for a moment, wondering if it would be possible to drown her worries with this.

_One way to find out…_

“Poppy! Fuck! No!” Branch yelled, as she made a jerking movement to down the entire drink. He seized the mug, splattering hot chocolate across the carpet and took the time to lecture her on not swallowing piping hot beverages with one try.

Sometimes, Poppy wondered if she would be dead without Branch.

* * *

Creek did not exaggerate his Monopoly skills.

Within an hour, both Poppy and Peppy were on the verge of bankruptcy, struggling for any source of income as Creek kept confiscating their money.

Branch, competitive as ever, was fiercely persevering although he too, was having difficulty with holding on to anything. While his frustration was obvious, he seemed to be trying very hard to not express it.

Fuzzbert had taken up occupancy of Poppy’s lap and growled every time Creek reached over to claim another one of her notes.

As the game began to drag and imaginary businesses were lost, Peppy made the wise decision of swapping out their hot chocolate for wine. No one had any complaints.

“Welp. I’m out.” Poppy yawned, as she forked over the last of her currency and set herself on the armrest of the chair, beside her equally disgraced father.

The ongoing game between Creek and Branch continued in relative silence, with Creek occasionally attempting some light banter while Branch simply grunted in response, his eyes glued to the board. Unsurprisingly, Monopoly wrapped up with a victory for Creek.

Branch took a very long swig of wine, emptying his third glass.

“Can’t say I expected that,” Peppy mused, toying lightly with the beads around Creek’s neck. “You don’t look like much of a Monopoly player.”

Creek chuckled, jutting his chin towards Poppy. “She said the same thing. I suppose I might need to change my look a bit if no one’s going to take me seriously.”

“You hoping to make it big, boy?”

He nodded. “I’m going to have my own restaurant soon.”

“A restaurant?” Peppy raised a brow. “You sure you’re not a tad young for that?”

“No harm in wanting to get a head start, is there?” Creek shrugged, folding up the playing board. “I like to think I’m ambitious.”

Peppy replied with a quiet hum and, clearing away the mugs and glasses, tapped Branch on the head. “Okay, son-”

“Son?”

“Where you planning on sleeping tonight?”

“Uh. The car?”

“Not happening.” Peppy and Poppy said in unison.

“Unless you wanna lose your toes, that is.” Poppy commented as she draped a blanket over the sleeping Fuzzbert. “It’s freezing out there.”

“We’ve got a guest room.” Peppy offered.

“Um actually,” Creek chimed in, with a twirl of his finger. “I went back to visit my mother and it only occurred to me earlier but…” He sighed. “Unfortunately, I left my mattress in Bergen Town so I was wondering if...”

Peppy’s inviting smile faded. “So-so you wanna stay here tonight too, is that it?”

“If that’s not a problem with you, Sir.”

He ran scratching fingers through his greying hair. “Ehhh, boys. We only have one spare room. I don’t know how you’re gonna make that work but-”

“Well, Branch could always sleep on the couch.”

Peppy, Poppy and Branch all turned to Creek, absolutely scandalized.

“ _Fuzzbert_ is sleeping there.”

Creek’s smile tightened. “Of course, I’m sorry. Well,” He wandered over to stand beside Poppy, his hands relaxed in his pockets. “Not trying to be too forward or anything but I am in a relationship with this lovely lady here,”

Poppy stiffened, feeling Branch’s eyes.

“So maybe it would be alright if I were to-”

There was a “No.” so sharp, it silenced even Creek.

He and Poppy let their jaws hang loose as they stared, dumbfounded, at Branch.

He didn’t look at either of them, instead calmly turning to face her father. “Creek and I are friends.” Branch said evenly. “We can easily share a bed. It’s fine.”

For a moment, nobody spoke.

“How much wine _did_ you drink?” Poppy blurted out, unabashedly squinting at him.

Creek looked to be the only smiling person in the room, a laugh escaping through his teeth. “Oh, how could I have forgotten?” He swung an arm around a less than enthused Branch’s shoulder. “The two of us have been friends for years, haven’t we? We’re practically inseparable!”

Branch didn’t acknowledge Creek, his gaze set firmly on Peppy. “I’ll be going to bed now, if that’s okay. Thank you for letting me stay here… and thank you for everything else.”

Poppy had no idea what her father had done but Branch’s thanks strung a young grin across the leathery face. “You’re a good boy, Branch. Remember that.”

A small smile toyed with his lips as he nodded. “Goodnight.”

Branch neared the exit but halted by Poppy. For a literal second that felt was a little too long for her, they gazed at each other. Finally, Branch found a lock of pink hair that curled over her collar bone and tossed it over her shoulder. “Night… Knight.” He smirked.

Poppy blinked, the process of understanding slow but once it clicked, her face warmed as she laughed at the stupid joke. “Go to bed, you drunk loser.”

“Excuse me? I am not drunk. You think a drunk man would have that kind of Monopoly skill?”

“Considering he lost, yes.” Creek muttered.

Poppy giggled, giving Branch a firm push out the door. “Get. Some. Sleep.”

He left the room with a final snort, the sound of him climbing the stairs, sitting with the three remaining parties.

It took a minute but Creek was soon to follow. “Alright,” He lightly pat Poppy’s back. “Goodnight, darling. Try not to wake us, yeah?”

She nodded, her mind still light as Creek trailed after Branch.

Once the sound of squeaking floorboards from above had ceased, her father released a relieved sigh. “Thought they’d never leave.”

Poppy smirked, turning and automatically low fiving the palm that was outstretched before her.

They had been doing this since she was a toddler and until her early teens, Peppy had always seized her hand, leaving her incapable of escape as she shrieked in laughter.

His grip loosened with the years until he no longer squeezed but just gently held her hand, always giving her the opportunity to slip free if she wished.

It was Poppy that held on tight these days.

She let the heat of his palm seep into her fingers as they both squished into his armchair. “So, whatcha think?”

“I don’t think.” Peppy replied, taking a sip of his half full wine glass. “Not anymore. That’s why I’m retiring soon.”

“Work with me here, Dad. C’mon, whatcha think of Creek?”

“… Young man. Beads. Baggy pants.”

“Yeah, okay.” Poppy wriggled in closer, gently poking at his forearm. “Some insight would be nice. Let’s maybe hear the dignified Mayor Peppy’s opinion.”

Peppy sniggered hoarsely. “Heh. Dignified…”

“Daddy!”

“Okay, okay,” The old man sighed, taking a particularly long moment to ponder. “Needs to shave.” He concluded finally.

“Excuse me?” Poppy scrubbed at her father’s grizzled facial hair. “You call this lip forest here shaved, Dad?”

“You got a fair point there. Smart kid, you are.”

“At least give me a legit answer. Do you like Creek, yes or no?”

“Ehhhhhhh…” Peppy’s expression scrunched into the epitome of noncommittal.

Poppy’s head tipped against her father’s shoulder in exasperation before she reached over the coffee table to pick up her own glass.

_Need alcohol just to chit chat with my own Daddio. What a world!_

“Okay, what’s wrong with him?” She tried, with an air of patience after swallowing a mouthful.

“Fuzzbert doesn’t like him.”

“So, what? Maybe he just doesn’t like the way he smells. I know he uses some weird cologne but-”

“He played Monopoly without mercy.” Peppy added.

Poppy rolled her eyes. “You and Branch are two of the sorest losers I know.”

“He wouldn’t drink my hot chocolate.”

“For the last time, Dad, he’s vegan.”

Poppy loved her father dearly but good God, it could be remarkably difficult to get a straight answer out of him sometimes.

In fairness, Poppy could be just as bad.

Peppy pouted. “ _Branch_ drank my hot chocolate.” He mumbled.

“Branch would inject liquidized chocolate into his bloodstream if you let ‘im.”

He chuckled heartily. “Good God, why didn’t you tell me? I like him better already!”

“Okay. We’re not talking about Branch.” She folded her arms, to assert the closing of the matter. Unfortunately, Poppy learned defiance from Peppy, who was… less than stellar at it, when concerning family.

Peppy looked at her hopefully. “Can we talk about Branch?”

“No.”

_Damn her natural lenient voice._

“Okay, sweetheart. But listen, if you don’t want to date Branch, that’s fine but I need you to at least accept him as your new brother.”

“… Yeah, ya lost me.”

Peppy gave her an obvious look. “He’s my son now.”

_Of course, he is._

“You can’t just claim a son with telling me!” A trace of amusement leaked into her tone.

“Dammit, Poppy! You’ve been bringing home stray animals since you could walk. I think it’s Daddy’s turn to adopt something for once!”

“Fine, fine.” Poppy couldn’t help but laugh. “But I am not calling him a brother.”

Her father shrugged. “Okay, marry him then.” He clicked his tongue with an assured nod. “Son _in law_. Just as good.”

_Slow down, buddy. Let’s ask Branch first._

_… Ooooooor let’s not._

“What about Creek? You’re kinda ignoring him here, Dad.”

“I am not ignoring him. I’m just quietly pretending he doesn’t exist. Any polite man would do the same.”

Poppy sighed, lifting her glass up for another drink. “I guess that’s the best answer I’m gonna get, huh? You don’t like him, do ya, Daddy?”

Sensing the slight disappointment, he had caused, Peppy backtracked immediately. “Ah, Pops. I’m just kidding now, you know that.”

She nodded. “But I am getting the vibe that you don’t like him.”

“Okay, I don’t.” Peppy said with a heavy shrug. “I don’t even have a good reason just,” He shuddered. “There’s something about him…”

“That’s what Branch thinks too.”

“But I have nothing bad to say about him. Perfectly well-mannered young man. He’s so perfect that it’s actually a tad annoying.” He lovingly tapped the back of her hand. “But I suppose you like him, don’t you? He makes you happy?”

_Jury’s still out on that one._

“He’s really, really nice.” Poppy muttered, gazing down at her father’s curling fingers.

“Sooo, he does? He does make you happy?”

“Y’know, Bridget asked me the same thing last night. Oh my God!” Her hands slapped to her cheeks in realization. “Dad, did I tell you about Bridget? Okay, so, she’s my new friend and she is the sweetest-”

“Yes, sweetheart. You’ve told me all about Bridget. Can we get back to what we were talking about?”

Poppy drained the remnants of her wine glass. “Y’know, Daddy. I think I’m ready to go to beddy byes, so, I guess I’ll be-”

She shot up from her seat but Peppy seized her wrist. The little family stared at each other, old patient eyes meeting the young and frantic ones. “We don’t have to talk about this right now, if you don’t want to. But please, Poppy. I’ve missed you. Can you stay down here with me for just a little while? I-I mean, if you’re tired then-”

Poppy shook her head, easing back into the chair with her Dad. “I missed you too. I missed you a lot. And,” She paused, inhaling deeply. “I know what you’ve been wanting to ask me since I got home and the answer is no.”

Peppy’s shoulders, pressed against her own, lowered in relief. “You still have it?”

She nodded. “The cowbell is still in my room, safe and sound… and mine.”

“And Creek?”

“I don’t think he’s getting it anymore. I thought I would be giving it to him eventually but-”

Her mumbling sentence was cut off as her father flung his arms around her.

Poppy hugged back, confused but equally enthusiastic. God, she had missed her Dad.

“Good girl, you’re a good, good girl. Bright too.” He pulled away to look her in the eye. “You’re young and you know that. You have plenty of time to live and I’m proud of you for not feeling too rushed to give your cowbell away. Have fun and be happy, first and foremost. Okay, dear?”

“Okay.” She felt herself smile, feeling a few knots of pressure unwind themselves from inside her.

There was a moment of peaceful silence within the living room, the only sounds being the distant ticking of the grandfather clock and the glug, glug, glug, glug of Poppy refilling her wine.

“Although,” Peppy said brightly, once the atmosphere allowed some humour. “When you do decide to give your cowbell away, may I make a suggestion?”

“Not happening, Dad.” She spoke muted through her glass.

“He drank my hot chocolate, Poppy!”

“Is that really your reason?”

“Fuzzbert likes him!”

“No.”

“I’ve already adopted him anyway!”

“Dad,” said Poppy, through a strained laugh as she set her drink down. “One little detail about giving your cowbell away. You gotta hope they’re gonna accept it. He… he’s not gonna accept it.”

Peppy’s smile dropped. “It’s-it’s Branch, right? We’re both talking about Branch? Or is there a third kid I don’t know about?”

“Branch.” Poppy nodded. “But, yeah. It’sssssss…” She shook her head. “Not likely.”

Her father looked bewildered. “Not-uh. W-why is it not likely?”

She threw up her palms, only for them to smack down against her knees. “It’s Branch, Dad. I-I mean, he only started calling me his _friend_ recently and that was tough enough. He likes me but, but… not in the cowbell kinda way.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

She gestured over her entire body. “Because I’m me and… I’m nothing like him. Okay, so-so if I actually wanted to give Branch my cowbell… hypothetically!”

Peppy rolled his eyes.

“All I can imagine happening is him getting that weird look on his face. He’s not much of a people person but he’s nice. Like really, really nice. He doesn’t like hurting people, even if he does it a lot accidentally. He’s still gonna feel guilty and try and not hurt my feelings but he’s still gonna say no. Are we gonna be able to live together after that? Maybe, but it sure as Hell won’t be as easy as before.”

Peppy lightly slapped her knee. “Hey, now. This is a pretty gloomy outlook on it. Where’s my positive Poppy?”

She shrugged. “I just… I got nuthin’. I dunno how it could possibly go well. I’m not the kinda person for Branch and I can deal with that.” It took an effort but she tugged up a little smile. “I mean, at the very least, he’d want someone a little smarter.”

“Who said you aren’t smart?” Peppy snapped.

“Obviously, nobody. They’re afraid to hurt my feelings. Look I know I’m not that dumb but I’m not exactly that smart either.”

“Poppy, you are-”

“Dad, it’s fine.” Poppy held up her hands to soothe him. “I’m used to it, I’m living with it, I’m happy with it. I’m not an especially smart cookie and Branch is not interested in me.” She clenched her teeth. “And that’s totally fine.”

Peppy didn’t respond at first but for the longest moment, he stared at his daughter, his eyes wide and his head shaking slowly. “Oh, God.” He finally whispered. “You _are_ my child.”

“You just figured that out now? Should I be worried, Daddy?”

“Poppy.” He cupped her face in his warm hands. “Now, listen to me. Listen to your wonderful, amazing father. You are just like me in so many ways. You’re creative. You’re a positive thinker. You’re goddamn _beautiful_.”

Poppy laughed, as her Dad exaggerated shaking her shoulders to effectively prove his point. “Now you’re smart, not stupid and this is a totally different thing entirely.” Peppy leaned up to press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you so, so much but you can be a very oblivious child.”

“… Why did I miss you again?”

* * *

They talked.

They talked a lot.

The thing about being separated for so long, was that talking could stretch on for hours for once you were reunited. Poppy had often recounted several anecdotes to her father through phone calls and emails but nothing beat the real thing. She found herself repeating several stories but Peppy didn’t mind in the slightest. They talked long after the bottle had been emptied, only climbing the stairs once Peppy started nodding off in his armchair.

With another kiss to his daughter’s head, he wandered drowsily down the hallway until he found his room.

Poppy waited until she heard the groan of bedsprings that was her father’s drop, to enter her own bedroom.

In an instant, she felt a mix of feelings so divided, she had to lean on the doorframe to steady herself.

It was Poppy’s room. The room that was bright in color but had a distinct fading essence that could only come from being so old and used. Also, it was noticeably bare.

The white scratched paper served as the shadow of old stickers that once decorated her wall. Cartoon and celebrity posters remained, including most of her old Justin Timberlake shrine. There were photos. Both childhood ones and some as recent as prom night. Old toys poked out of pink storage boxes. She felt at home here, but at the same time, it felt as though most of the room’s light had been packed up for Bergen Town, along with the current Poppy.

Although it wasn’t all unpleasant. It hadn’t been that long but somehow stepping into her old room felt like flipping through a memory scrapbook. In a way, it was a nice feeling.

But all the underlining giddiness that it managed to muster, could not be expressed on her own.

Poppy wasn’t remotely tired, something she attributed to the rather revealing conversations just an hour prior. It kept her eyes from drooping, however the exact details hazed slightly after she drank herself into babbling anecdote country. Something about Creek. Something about Branch. Something about herself.

The decision wasn’t really thought through. Maybe it was because they had a tendency to gravitate into each other’s space as within seconds, she was standing outside the guest room. With lips buttoned, Poppy pressed her ear against the door, listening to the sound of snoring. It was a soft and light sound.

Welp, that confirmed it. Creek was sleeping. But no hardware store symphony meant no sleeping Branch.

Pushing the door open and wincing at the way it squeaked, she peered into the darkness of the room. One shadowy lump occupied the bed and as her gaze travelled downwards, she found the other lying on the floor. His face was illuminated by his phone screen, Branch’s diluted pupils blinking up at her.

Poppy pressed a finger to her lips and beckoned him out. Branch was up in an instant, quietly treading across the carpeted floor.

The two of them didn’t speak a word until they had crossed the hallway and were safely behind Poppy’s closed door.

“Why the heck, were you sleeping on the floor?” Was Poppy’s first question.

“You know your anti-violence, pro world peace boyfriend?”

“I’m familiar with him, yeah.”

“Practically an MMA fighter in his sleep. I’m lucky to be alive… It’s not funny.”

Poppy made no attempt to stifle her giggles. “It’s kinda funny.”

“Did you miss the last part? I could have died!”

“But if you did die, it would have been because of my anti-violence, pro peace boyfriend. Like, Branch, you would have been murdered by a hippie!”

“How drunk _are_ you?” Branch smirked.

“I don’t really know. Anyways,” She gestured towards her bed, as she walked to her dresser. “Have a seat, get comfy. We can watch a movie or something.”

He plopped down on the mattress, shrugging off his jacket. “So, what happened? It’s past midnight. Did you start eating spoonfuls from the sugar bag again?”

Poppy shook her head as she rummaged around in her drawer. “Nah. Just can’t sleep. Happens sometimes, y’know?” She pulled out a pair of pajama shorts and a light t-shirt. She pointed a finger at Branch, as she used the other hand to inspect the garments. “Peepers shut.”

He nodded, placing a hand over his eyes. “Tell me when.”

She hummed in response as she pulled her top off over her head. “Of course, I knew you weren’t asleep when I didn’t hear your snoring shaking the roof down.”

“Hilarious.” Branch deadpanned. “No offence but your floor isn’t that comfortable. Also, Cooper won’t leave me alone.”

“Cooper?” Poppy questioned, unhooking her bra with a satisfied rub at the red markings it had left on her skin. “Since when do you and Cooper text?”

“Since today. I needed someone to cover for me at work so I could come here with you. He and Biggie are hoping to get a permanent place at Starfunkles.”

She shimmied out of her pants and tugged up the shorts. “Think they’re up to the job?”

Branch scoffed. “Probably. It’s not like it’s hard. Rent skates, be nice to kids and sometimes you need to wait tables. They’ll handle it just fine. Can I open my eyes now?”

She pulled down her t-shirt over her stomach. Now fully clothed, Poppy wandered over to her stacked up toy boxes. “Nah. Gimme a minute.” She said with a grin, picking up a ragged looking Barbie doll. With a stealth that was something to be desired, she crept over to him.

Branch jerked, as he felt her weight crash down on the bed. “D-do you have clothes on?”

“Don’t look.”

“Uh. Poppy.” He tried to keep his tone calm but it came across as somewhat panicked. “Poppy, do you have clothes? Why are you on the bed? Get off the bed. Put clothes on. I swear to God...” Despite the authority, he tried to express, she noticed his head duck meekly, his hand tighten over his vision and the red bloom across his face.

“You’re not gonna look, are you?” She asked in a sing song voice.

“No n-no, fuck. I’m not gonna look. Just hurry up and put clothes on. You can’t just do this to me now. Put on your fucking clothes!”

“Waaaaait.”

“Wait for what?”

“Waaaaaaait.”

“What for fucking what?” His voice cracked.

“Waaaaaaaaaaaait aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand BLAH!” She shoved the Barbie into Branch’s face, scrubbing her rough hair against his skin.

Branch, already on edge and now thoroughly startled, yelped in shock as Poppy dissolved into breathless laughter.

He peered cautiously through a gap in his fingers and upon seeing that she was decent, slapped his hand down with a scowl. “I hate you.” He lied.

Still fighting through giggles, Poppy pressed the doll up against Branch’s lips. “Mwah! She loves you too.”

The muscles that held Branch’s face together, were always steel-like but in recent months, they seemed to be weakening considerably. With the will of butter, he struggled to hide his smile. “First the dog, now the doll. Stop making me kiss things.”

Stroking the doll’s hair, Poppy shrugged with a chuckle. “Okay then, bud.” She waved the doll in his direction. “How’s about you tell me what you wanna kiss and I’ll see what I can do for ya.”

Branch snorted, a retort clearly at the ready as he opened his mouth.

Then it snapped shut.

She blinked in bafflement as he flushed.

What was the-?

Oh.

_Abort, abort, abort._

Alright, so there was a possibility that Poppy may not be subtle. There was also a possibility that Branch may have caught on to her lack of subtlety by now.

This was a terrifying possibility.

“Sooooooo,” She bounced on the mattress in an attempt to resurrect the dead playfulness. It didn’t work. “Wanna watch that movie now?”

Branch nodded mutely.

* * *

They used Poppy’s old laptop.

Large, slow, clunky keyed with a loud whirring fan but it was better than nothing. Luckily in the five and a half minutes it took to start up, the awkwardness between them was ebbed with idle chatter as they argued over what to watch. The suggestions varied but in the end, Poppy won the argument and they settled with marathoning old cartoons that they watched as kids.

“It’s appropriate.” Poppy decided, digging her legs under the covers. “We’re in my old room. Let’s get nostalgic.” She tucked the quilt over Branch too, much to his thinly veiled alarm.

_Not sayin’ you gotta be attracted to me but like… you don’t gotta make that face._

“Relax, bud.” She said dryly, her slight irritation evident as she smoothed it down. “It’s a classic sleepover thing. We gotta lie in bed and watch stuff ‘til we get tired. Then, you can go back to your room…. Or you can just sleep here. Does it really matter what floor you sleep on?”

Branch shrugged. “I’d prefer to it to rooming with Creek anyway.”

“Hey, why’d you do that?”

He looked at her quizzically.

“Why’d you decide to room with Creek?” She specified.

“You wouldn’t let me sleep in the car.”

Poppy smirked. “You know damn well that there was another option.”

“You’re not subtle, y’know.” He muttered.

_I’m aware, yes._

“The second Creek brought up sleeping with you, your whole body seized up. But you’re too much of a fucking pushover sometimes. You would have let him talk you into it if I didn’t say something.”

Poppy didn’t feel the edge that she assumed Branch’s words were intended to have, as she smiled at him. “Thank you.” She said softly.

She assumed he had expected as a silly retort and thrown off by the soberly sweet response he received, nervously turned elsewhere. After a minute of staring at the door, he chuckled. “You caught a lucky break or _you_ would have ended up sleeping on the floor.”

“Are you implying that Creek would have kicked me, a lady, out of the bed?”

“The sleeping madman knows no gender, Poppy.”

She snickered. “Funny, I can’t see it happening.”

“No, I’m serious. He’s brutal-”

“Not that.” Poppy lightly tapped the spot on the covers where she guessed his knee was buried. “I just can’t imagine you letting it happen. If you knew I wasn’t really cool with it, that is.”

“You have too much faith in me.” He scoffed. “I totally could have left you to the wolves.”

“Don’t believe it for a minute!” She chirped. “As if you’d just stand around and let me do something I obviously wasn’t down for. Sharing a bed with a dude, Branch. I can’t do that!”

In hindsight, it should have taken them far less than five seconds to comprehend the situation.

But they weren’t legally sober so they should have a right to forgiveness.

The fact that both of them shifted further apart at the exact same time, did not help matters in the slightest. They were often on the same page at the same time which, most of the time, could be considered a great convenience.

At times like this, it just made things awkward.

It was Branch that spoke again after a thorough clearing of his throat. He pointed at Poppy’s laptop screen which featured a paused cartoon, that he previously did not want to view. “Want to watch these now or…?”

Poppy couldn’t agree fast enough.

Hitting play and slouching back into the mountain of pillows, the two gazed sleepily at the animation unfolding on screen. The silence was welcomed, the time mercifully drank away their energy and the combined body heat from under the covers was slowly but surely, lulling them into blissful comfort.

“I like her.” Poppy mumbled, halfway through an episode.

“Why?” Branch stifled a yawn. “She’s barely done anything.”

“She’s pretty.”

“So?”

“What, bud? Can’t appreciate a pretty character?”

“Not if they’re boring.”

Poppy hummed. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

Branch’s already drooping eyelids, squinted. “She’s a cartoon. Not to me but… I guess she’s a type.”

“Whatcha think would make her prettier?” Poppy dragged her tired eyes from the screen to see his reaction.

He seemed too disoriented to care. “Dunno. I guess if she smiled more?”

“She smiles.”

“Yeah, but not a lot.”

“You don’t smile a lot.”

She wriggled in closer to him, drawn to the warmth.

“Yeah, well, I’m not pretty, am I?” He laughed weakly.

“Hmm, I guess you’re a type.”

Branch’s eyes finally settled on her. “The fuck does that mean?” His voice was slurred lazily.

“You’re pretty to some people.” She stroked absentmindedly at the base of his chin. She wasn’t entirely sure when the hand ventured up that far but it was there now, and with her muddled mind, it felt to be in the right place.

He didn’t appear too bothered by the touch, his eyes drooping with every brush of her finger. “Bullshit…”

“’S’not.” Her hand slipped upwards, spidering itself across his jawline. “I think you’re pretty.”

He was staring benignly at her, with slowly blinking sky eyes. Once he had basked in enough of her, they slid shut with a “You’re pretty too.” Just falling off his tongue.

Branch breathed peacefully, still drifting into sleep. The snoring would come later.

Finding herself not ready take her eyes off him, Poppy folded her arms over his chest and settled there. She would wake him and have him lie on the floor when she was ready to go to sleep.

But not yet.

“You’re really, really pretty.” She murmured.

He moaned lightly in response.

Her eyes raked across every feature, as if it were soothing to her. Wondering just how likely he was to wake up, she gazed at his hanging bottom lip.

Poppy smiled at the thought. How do you wake a sleeping princess, after all? It would wrap up their little game quite nicely.

But the time ticked away and Poppy continued to observe him, making no effort to lean closer. It was a nice fantasy to entertain but even in her molasses mind, it was not something she could do.

She was a gentle Knight, not a kiss thief.

Sighing, Poppy slid some hair back over Branch’s forehead. “G’night. Love you.”

The unconscious words he spoke, were unintelligible but she liked to believe he said goodnight back. She would wake him in a minute.

Any minute…

Just one more minute…

* * *

Creek liked to believe he was a patient man.

But good God, whatever entity was out there, just _had_ to be testing him. It was the only logical explanation as to why the girl he just needed to hang on to for a little longer, had to have a sexual tension-fuelled friendship with her dumbass housemate. Could they not wait? He wasn’t asking them to wait long.

Just.

Please.

Arms knotted in a mix of frustration and incredulity, he leaned against Poppy’s doorframe as rich morning sunlight leaked though the curtains. He had to admit, this stunt was extremely daring for someone as spineless as Branch.

The idiot in question, was currently dead to the world, Creek’s girlfriend huddled in his arms as if she were a teddy bear.

Creek sighed. It was too early for this nonsense.

The chance that he would have to use his last resort, was getting likelier by the minute.

With a stab of annoyance, he realized that he really wanted a cigarette right now. If he had just held out on Saturday night, he wouldn’t have to deal with cravings again. He wouldn’t have caved in on Saturday, if Poppy didn’t have to make such a scene and stress him the Hell out. Now, because of her, she’d have to kiss an ashtray mouth. That was her own damn problem.

When the little nagging addiction didn’t shut up, Creek groaned before heading back to his own room to ease a little tension.

Goddammit, why did things keep happening to him?

* * *

Poppy wasn’t entirely certain who woke first.

Somehow, she doubted that either of them found anything out of the ordinary when they first opened their eyes, despite being damp with sweat. But once the blurry dream-like world steadied into focus and fuzzy minds cleared with rational thought, Poppy and Branch became very, _very_ aware of their current position.

It began with two pairs of locked blinking eyes and frozen faces which hovered inches apart. The situation was then rapidly processed and she could only imagine that emergency sirens went off inside his brain too.

Poppy shot up, barely unable to stop gawking at him even as she rose. Something pounded from under her hand and she realized with a startled yelp that her palm was pressed against his chest.

Branch’s expression could only be described as utterly terrified. Lying perfectly still, as if paralyzed, his parched lips opened and shut in a desperate attempt to find something to say. Even as he apparently decided on his words, he didn’t seem to be capable of voicing them. Finally, he managed in a hoarse whisper. “I need… to pee. Please.”

She nodded, pointing a shaking finger outside her open door.

“C-can…I need to…take the blanket. Please.”

With that, she scrabbled off the quilt, falling from the bed in the process and darting across the room. “Yep, yep. Okay, that’s totally okay. I’m just gonna get dressed right here. Hey, look! I got some clothes left over from yesterday. That’s handy, I’m just gonna put these on here and…”

Her babbling trailed off as Branch left the room, her entire quilt wrapped around his middle.

* * *

Breakfast dragged on.

Neither Branch nor Poppy had a lot to say.

Peppy, who had been hit face first with the tense atmosphere, had also been rather quiet.

The only person totally unaffected by the obvious issue, was Creek, who chatted animatedly to a practically silent audience. It didn’t seem to bother him. Less interruptions. He seemed rather eager to return to Bergen Town however and, as Poppy didn’t care if she was in one uncomfortable location or the other, they wasted no time in packing up their belongings and heading back.

Of course, she needed, an extra fifteen minutes to say her goodbyes to Peppy by the porch, as Fuzzbert circled their feet. There was a final farewell, a final hug, a final kiss and a final low five before she could bring herself to leave. And even then, it was difficult to tear herself away from him. That was her Dad!

Poppy yanked up a smile as she got into the car, in order to counter Creek’s pleasant mood. The two engaged in light, awkwardly formal small talk throughout the drive. It was nice, Poppy kept internally insisting. Chatting with Creek is nice.

Branch hadn’t spoken a word since they left. His eyes were glued to the scenery although Poppy had to pretend she didn’t notice his brief glances whenever she turned the other way.

She sighed. Whatever happened had happened and it may take them a little longer to smooth things over again. But to look on the bright side, she doubted they couldn’t manage it. Branch and Poppy were very hard to separate permanently.

_But for now…_

She lowered the rear-view mirror to get a peek at Creek. He was fiddling with his phone.

Poppy didn’t know what she was going to do about herself and Branch. She didn’t know what she was going to say to him. She didn’t know what he was going to say to her. Everything relating to the whole Branch ordeal was very unclear territory.

But one thing, she had figured out for certain, was that she needed to get Creek out of whatever mess she had created before it got too out of hand. He didn’t deserve any of this. Fingers whitening around the steering wheel, she inhaled sharply. Poppy was going to suck it up and deal with the consequences of what happens afterwards. She would be breaking up with Creek as soon as possible.


	16. Chapter 16

_She appeared in focus under a soft, wispy light, her hair faded rose and her cheeks glowing in an undertone of golden shadows. Movements slow as if she were a ghost, she tilted her head in subdued confusion as her otherworldly eyes explored downwards to ponder on their intertwined limbs._

_The world was muted and as such, Branch didn’t feel anything very strongly. There was just a quiet awe for the lovely woman who was nestled so close. His hand stroked along the trail of her arm but he could not feel her skin. Poppy wasn’t meant to be touched, only admired._

_But despite what was forbidden, he didn’t let her go._

_There was a scream. A high, piercing siren that shattered their quiet world, escaping through pale candy lips which bled into a sharper eye-popping pink. The room bathed in darkness, exploded in harsh, bright colors, stinging his eyes and quickening his heart._

_Poppy jerked and begged to escape his grasp and he wanted her to go free but his arms wouldn’t relent, only winding themselves tighter like a shackle around her waist._

_Her desperate cries pounded against his eardrums but his shouted apologies couldn’t be heard. She came undone with a slash of her vivid hair across his hand, the exposed intensity shocking the grey. Her body slammed, terrified, against a wall, spreading spirals of pinks and blues to everything she touched._

_Everything but him._

_Branch approached cautiously, almost collapsing under his buckling knees. He wanted to soothe her shaking alarm but with every step he took, her shrieks grew shriller._

_Stop._

_Please stop._

_Leave her alone._

_He couldn’t leave her alone. He wasn’t capable. All he could do was ruin her._

_His legs led him towards her, unsympathetic to his internal pleas to back away._

_And Creek was there._

_Well, Creek was somewhere._

_He felt Creek looming in the air, turquoise puddling under his feet._

_The image of him appeared with a freezing smile, his body feathery as he drifted towards Poppy. The shine of her eyes dimmed, brightening his hair as he possessed her in an embrace, her screams meekly subsiding._

_With an expression so serene, yet a gaze of steel, he turned to Branch. His fingers drummed lightly along Poppy’s forearm, the mock of Branch’s prior inability wobbling wordlessly above them._

_Branch could only stare, transfixed and horrified. Tiny freckles of yellow and purple were appearing across her skin, growing, spreading, contaminating. The disease was going unnoticed._

_Lunging forward, but suddenly so far away, he ran and he ran and he ran until he reached them, yelling words that no one could hear as he ripped apart the contact._

_His fingers brushed along her wrist and she recoiled with a tight gasp._

_Grey._

_His heart exploding, beating relentlessly at his ribcage, his hands flew to his sides as not to touch her again._

_It was like smoke that had seeped into her skin and it began to spread._

_It spread faster than Creek’s disease, expanding through her body at a rapid rate. Her glassy eyes were welling up and Branch needed no explanation. It was his grey and he understood. The grey burned severely._

_He back tracked, sickened but unable to look away from the sight of Poppy unravelling, despite how vehemently his insides screamed._

_And Creek was there._

_When was he not there?_

_He didn’t speak._

_Could he speak?_

_Creek lowered, his smile still in place, to the crumpled Poppy and placed a hand on her shoulder._

_Her eyes widened and her head snapped up to Branch._

_Creek told._

_Creek told._

_Creek told._

_Suddenly, there was the sound of wrinkling paper and in barely a second to hold one’s breath, it down poured._

_Sheets were falling from the sky, so many old forgotten words printed across each page, that Branch had to wince. He snatched stray pages from the air, shoving them into his overflowing pockets but he could never hide them all. Too many. They were drowning._

_From a distance, he saw Poppy rise, the sheets parting all around her. They seemed to realize, unlike himself, that she should not be touched._

_She was no longer crying, eyes dry as a bone as she stood to her full height._

_Still so small._

_Blinking in the snowy light that the papers had created, she circled, breathing it all in._

_With every glance of a falling sheet, it had been read. She now knew every word._

_Once she had turned to face him again, hovering in the shower of obsession, her expression distorted into one of utter disgust._

_It was like a backhand slap to the face. A slap he well and truly deserved._

_F.B Blue, the background sang._

_F.B Blue._

_F.B Blue._

_F.B Blue._

_What a stupid name._

_Branch was wandering now, walking back further and further in a desperate attempt to keep the distance._

_But when he reached nothingness, he had only forwards and back._

_Forwards was Poppy. Creek. What he had lost. What he had gained. Things he adored were forwards but those things were being destroyed by his spread of grey._

_His heels teetered over the nothing._

_He didn’t want to go back._

_But there were too many things in the forward._

_At a loss and squeezing his eyes shut, he felt himself dip._

_Backwards, it is._

* * *

He woke.

He didn’t shoot upwards, he didn’t scream, he made no move nor sound whatsoever as his eyes snapped open with the rush of falling, still fresh in his memory. He remained where he was, lying curled in a fetal position, arms clasped around a pillow and his blank eyes focused blearily on an equally blank wall.

He was sweating but that was nothing new. However, the uncontrollable shaking, alerted him to the fact that whatever that nonsensical splash of an acid trip-like dream was, it had not sat well with his body.

Registering the familiarity of chirping morning birds and the incredibly underwhelming paint job of his bedroom, Branch eased slightly. He pulled himself up by the hands and slouched into a sitting position as hazy memories of his dream evaporated.

All that really lingered, were the feelings it stirred, which seemed to slip as he sat up, from his head, to the pit of his stomach.

_Reminder of The Day: You’re a piece of shit._

On second thought, being startled and confused by a trippy dream was still preferable to having to deal with his current reality. That was an internalized disaster right there.

Branch swallowed, quietly accepting the fact that he would be forced to think about it again, the same way one comes to accept a retching spell over a toilet bowl. He didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

It had been two days since they left Troll Town and Branch and Poppy were on rather uncomfortable terms. Not the silent treatment, not oddly formal like their prior rough patch but very, very awkward. Poppy seemed determined not to let it affect them as she continued to talk freely and cheerfully but even she couldn’t mask the obvious tension.

She knew things were off.

He knew things were off.

But both of them were trying their hardest to pretend things weren’t off.

Every time he was in her presence, Branch had to chew on a disjointed apology but he knew damn well that Poppy didn’t want to hear it. To hear it, would be to acknowledge what happened, an incident that Poppy was guarding through steel barriers. She seemed uneasy about the whole thing.

_I’d be pretty fucking uneasy too if someone fell asleep in my bed and spent the night groping me like a weirdo. Not to mention what the creep woke up with…_

Branch winced at the thought. He was absolutely disgusting.

Was this just it? Was this who he was now? A creepy degenerate whose female friend rightly felt uncomfortable with?

Poppy really didn’t deserve to feel unsafe in her own home. Should he leave? He had nowhere to go. Should he… should he try staying away from her again? That would probably be the most considerate thing he could do.

But Poppy needed him.

At least, that’s what she always said.

He had promised not to leave her, hadn’t he?

It’s not like he wanted to.

But who the fuck knows? Maybe her need for his company had changed once she realized what a complete sleaze he was. Maybe she’d like him out of her apartment as soon as possible but she was too goddamn polite to say it.

_Am I overthinking this?_

Probably. Branch was probably blowing this way out of proportion but that didn’t mean he could immediately stop. He had no idea how the fuck Poppy felt about this but it’s not like he could find out because the woman didn’t wish to fucking talk about it and now he’s been suffering in his own hyperactive assumptions for the last two days.

His palms dragged themselves across his cheeks.

God, this was a mess. This was a complete and utter mess.

This could have not happened. This situation could have been easily avoided. Why did it happen? Why did it fucking happen? It happened because Branch was a tired dumbass who wasn’t thinking straight when he got too comfortable in a girl’s bed.

 _You don’t fucking do that!_ His head was screaming at him again.

Did he do it on purpose? Branch didn’t _think_ he did but…

As his thoughts went haywire, his fingers began to curl and tighten.

What if he subconsciously did? That was possible, that’s a thing people do. It wouldn’t even surprise Branch if he really was that disgusting underneath it all. He was scum. He was fucking scum. It all made sense.

Branch had himself under a delusion for weeks. He thought he was becoming better, just a little bit at a time. A little change, his ass. How could he just let himself do that? Just to top his list of flaws, he was a liar too?

_Well, F.B Blue…_

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

With his insides writhing with a vague anger that he could barely articulate, Branch raised his fist and pounded it against his forehead.

And again. And again. And again, every collision more forceful than the last.

_You Are! A piece! Of shit!_

He felt the foundation of a future bruise and his eyes sting from uncleansed dampness as his alarm went off, oblivious to the fact that its owner was awake, pissed off and hitting himself like an idiot.

Right. Branch had class today.

He really shouldn’t do this. At least, not now. He had shit to do. He should just pull himself together, go to class and have his stupid, fucking meltdown when he got home.

He would lock the door this time.

* * *

It was just one of those days where even something as simple as a morning routine, could be extremely draining. Getting in the shower, getting out, drying himself, dressing himself. Everything was a challenge when Branch couldn’t even manage to think clearly.

After finishing up any attempt to tidy his haggard appearance, Branch forced himself to look into the plain, wooden framed mirror that was placed over his dresser. It barely took five seconds before he turned, concluding that he didn’t want to look anymore. Why the fuck did he own a mirror anyway? It’s not like it brought him anything but disgust.

With the decision set that he was presentable looking as he could get, he slid his bedroom door open a crack, checking for signs of the apartment’s other inhabitant. A sliver of pink hair was spotted in the kitchen and Branch took a curious step forward.

As he neared closer, he was introduced to the soft but persistent sound of felt scraping back and forth across paper.

Poppy was hunched over the dining table, the surface disarrayed with coloured markers, post-it notes and the naked, pink haired troll doll that she usually kept in the bathroom. Every so often, she would sit up and scoop a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

Branch took another step, his foot disturbing the peace, as a floorboard creaked.

Poppy didn’t look up, instead giving the table a swift tap with her marker before gesturing to the opposite chair. “Come sit down, buddy. I got your favourite cereal all laid out for ya.”

He did as told, crossing the kitchen and slumping down into his seat. After a moment of staring into the bowl she prepared for him, Branch glanced up at her.

Poppy, who had apparently been watching him, immediately tore her eyes away and ducked her head again, seemingly absorbed in whatever she was drawing. “So, good morning, sunshine!” The tone aimed for perky but the strain in her voice and the way she still wouldn’t make eye contact, told all.

“Morning.” Branch murmured, wishing his stomach would stop lurching at the sight of soggy cornflakes bobbing in milk. He really didn’t like the thought of eating right now.

The goddamn analogue clock that ticked over their heads, seemed to thrive off highlighting the silence.

_Hey, this is the girl who can ramble about nothing, right? It’s saying something when she can’t think of a word to say to you._

His heart was sinking so low every minute, Branch wouldn’t be surprised if it was stuck in his small intestine by noon.

With heavy eyelids, his gaze travelled along the table and settled on some doodles that Poppy had cast aside.

Designed on a post-it note was a small creature with a puff of white hair, its body coloured with a silver gel pen. The little stars that scattered the paper, gave off the impression of sparkling glitter. As if to instantly back up his belief, Branch caught the little 'Guy Diamond' scribbled in the corner.

At that moment, Poppy completed another doodle. A little candy red one with a pair of headphones and a bundle of orange hair tied loosely atop her head. 'DJ Suki' this one proclaimed. This one was also wearing clothes.

Was there… any particular reason that Guy Diamond was naked?

“Y’know,” Poppy piped up with another attempt at light hearted-ness. “You should probably eat up. I know I’m a pretty good artist but you can’t gawk at my drawings all day, can ya?”

Branch responded by turning his attention back to his bowl. He raised a spoon of runny cereal and let it hover an inch under his lip. With another churn from his insides, he slowly lowered it again, letting it fall into the puddle of milk with a _plop_.

When he looked up again, he caught the shadow of Poppy’s furrowed brow disappearing as her expression shifted into neutrality. “You, uh… you doin’ alright there, my man?”

Branch nodded but offered nothing more.

The quiet didn’t last as Poppy didn’t stop trying to ease the tension. “Hey, so, uh…” She gestured to her little doodles. “Whatcha think of my trolls?”

“Is that what they are?”

“Yep!” She held up the pink haired bathroom guardian. “Inspired by this little bud here! He got me thinking. What if we were all troll dolls, Branch? Wouldn’t we be just adorable?”

Branch managed a silent chuckle. “Adorably naked?”

Poppy reacted at once and with a light gasp, threw a hand over the troll’s exposed body. “Okay, so the first one I made was Guy Diamond and if you think about it, if we were to all get drunk, the first one to start taking stripping _would_ probably be-”

“I don’t want to know!” Branch held up his hands to silence her external train of thought. “So, how many have you done?”

“Well, so faaaar…” She slid a hand around to get a good view of all her designs. “Guy, Suki, you and me.” She plucked up the image of a bright pink troll in a flower crown and a powder blue dress. “Introducing Princess Poppy of the trolls-”

“Why is she a princess?”

“Because it was my idea, Branch and I can be a princess if I want to!” Poppy snapped. “So, anyway! Princess Poppy here, is the beautiful and admired princess who throws epic parties, has lots of friends, sings a lot, makes scrapbooks-”

“Okay,” Branch smirked, leaning forwards on folded arms. “I know what Princess Poppy does. I live with her.”

“Wanna see you?”

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged in invitation.

“Introducing Branch the troll!”

Blue. Branch the troll was a vivid aqua in color with a quiff of tall indigo hair and wide cheery smile adorning his little face. He wore a vest stitched of leaves and a pair of patched, russet shorts. In all honesty, he was quite adorable.

“That is not me.” Branch the human, instantly deadpanned. “He couldn’t be any more unlike me.”

Poppy scoffed, looking mildly offended at the critique. “Well, I happen to think I captured you quite well.”

“You got the giant fucking nose right. But that’s it, really.”

“Think you could do better?”

“Maybe not better but more accurate.”

Poppy tossed the block of post-it notes his way and gestured to the supply of drawing utensils that were spilled across the table. “Get creative, then.” She said through a mouthful as she seemed to remember to continue her breakfast.

Peeling away a sheet and slamming it down in front of him, Branch skimmed over the selection of markers, crayons and gel pens. Unsatisfied with the intensity of the rainbow, he reached over to rummage around in Poppy’s strawberry patterned pencil case and withdrew a simple black sharpie.

The style of his drawing clashed horribly with Poppy’s. While the faces and colours and expressions of her trolls radiated a whimsical kind of happiness, Branch’s was more like a sample of a crudely drawn comic strip.

First, he drew a face. Big ears, big nose and a big scowl. The troll’s pointed teeth were gnashed and his brow lowered over tiny button eyes. With a squeak of his pen, Branch scribbled in a tuft of rough, spiked hair and added a hastily doodled lump of a body. As a final touch, he picked up a pencil and shaded in the troll’s grey skin.

“Why’s he so angry?” A soft voice tickled at his ear. He didn’t know when Poppy had shifted positions to sit next to him, but he may have been more focused on his drawing than he thought.

“He’s… an angry guy.”

“Why?”

Branch shrugged, still staring down at his creation. “That’s just the way he is.”

Poppy hummed thoughtfully. “I dunno about that. There’s gotta be a reason.”

“He’s just an ass.”

“Well… I like him.”

Branch turned to her, almost amused. “Do I need to show you him again?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I’ve decided. I like him.”

“You’re…” How was Branch at a loss for words? They were discussing a _drawing_. “You’re not supposed to like him…”

Poppy shrugged. “Tough.”

“Well-well,” Branch spluttered. “What about the one you made? The blue one? Don’t you like him better?”

“I like him too. I like both.”

“The blue one seems a Hell of a lot better.”

“You said yourself that Blue Branch wasn’t accurate.”

“Yeah. That’s why he’s better.”

Poppy exhaled, which sounded a mix of exasperation and pity. She reached across the table and produced Blue Branch. “Hey… look at me for a second.”

Branch, whose neck was suddenly very stiff, reluctantly turned in her direction.

She held up the post-it note before his vision. “So, I know you said that I was way off with this little guy buuuuuut….” A little smile popped across her features. “I think I did just fine. Blue’s your favourite color isn’t it? Why shouldn’t he be blue? Also, he’s smiling. Branch, I dunno if you’re aware but you’re pretty capable of smiling.”

He scoffed. “So,” He jabbed a finger at Grey Branch. “You’re actually telling me that this one _isn’t_ accurate?”

Poppy shook her head. “That’s not what I’m saying but-”

“Hah! So, you admit it. I’m just like this prick of a troll.”

“No, Branch.” She said patiently. “I’m not saying you’re not like Grey Branch. I’m just sayin’ that maybe you’re being a little too hard on Grey Branch.”

“H-hard on Grey….?” Branch trailed off, flabbergasted. “I-I…have you seen him?!” He shoved the drawing at her. “Look at him! Look at his ugly fucking angry face! How can you look at this guy and not hate him?”

Poppy caught his hand in her own and untied his fingers from around the post-it note, taking it for herself. “Listen. To me.” She said slowly, holding up Grey Branch in her left hand and Blue Branch in her right. “All you seem to focus on with Grey Branch here, is what a dick he is. Well, he gets angry. So what? But is that all he is? Nobody’s _just_ angry, Branch. Especially not you.”

Was this seriously happening? Was she psychoanalysing a doodle? “What do you expect him to be? He’s the opposite of Blue Boy who just seems fucking perfect so, really, the only thing he can be is imperfect. He’s every piece of shit trait I got.”

Poppy’s lips scrunched in a mild pout. “So, he’s kinda grumpy.” She shrugged. “But I guess he’s just kinda sad sometimes, y’know? But that’s fine. It’s just… a part of who he is. Not a people person. Quiet. Spends a lot of time on his own.”

“A fucking hermit-”

“Probably has a lot of time to think, with nobody around to bother him.” Turning the post-it note on its back, Poppy leaned upwards and pressed the sticky side against Branch’s forehead. “I bet he’s really smart.”

Trying (and failing) not to blush at the close contact, Branch’s eyes slid up, the lower half of the paper framing his vision.

“But really, I dunno if Grey Branch is all you are.” She continued, as she looked down at her own drawing before holding it up. “Blue Branch is, well.... he likes to smile. He cares a whole lot about the people around him. Blue Branch is… he’s really, really kind. Blue Branch just loves and loves and loves …” She stuck Blue Branch against his chest and smiled warmly. “… with all his heart.”

Branch, whose throat felt tight, managed a hoarse response. “I… they’re both…? Am I…?”

Poppy giggled. “You can be both.” She tapped his knee assuredly. “They’re both you and… neither one of them are the bad side here. They’re just… different sides.”

There was a pause. Branch struggled for something to say but he really didn’t know what was appropriate. A sarcastic comment would probably suffice but… his brain wasn’t really in the right state for it.

“Thank you.” Came the soft reply after a matter of moments.

Poppy nodded, a smile widening and her cheeks pinkening. “Hey,” She whispered.

“Yeah?” Branch asked, still and making no effort to pluck the post-it notes from his person.

“Do we… need to talk about something?”

Oh. Wow. He had almost forgotten their awkward terms. It seems both of them did, for just a few minutes there.

“Um. W-we could. Do you want to?”

Poppy shrugged. “I mean, we don’t have to. We- we could just pretend and…” She trailed off.

“No,” Branch slowly shook his head as he thought about simply burying the situation. “That probably wouldn’t be the best idea.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. We gotta… we gotta be honest so…” Poppy glanced up at the clock. “We’ll talk tonight. We’ll… get everything out of our system. There’s some stuff I gotta do before we can really talk about it but… I’ll-I’ll handle it. Everything will be fine when I get home.”

Branch nodded. “Okay, alright. We’ll do that. We’ll talk. Tonight. After you do… your, uh… your stuff.”

“Yep, yep, got it, got it.” Poppy had already rose from the chair and was swinging her bag over her shoulder. “So, you comin’ or you even going to class today?”

Branch shook a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah. You go on. I’m not leaving for a few more minutes.”

“Alright, see ya later!” She waved as she crossed the flat. “Hey, Branch.” She said, her hand on the door handle.

He looked up. “We’re gonna talk tonight. Promise?”

He smiled. “Promise.”

And with a final nod from her, Poppy was gone.

The silence she had left behind was almost jarring but the atmosphere of sunshine rays still lingered in her aftermath. Branch felt like slouching over the table and basking in the warmth until it faded. But no, he did have class to attend.

He stood, not touching his bag or even heading for the exit. Instead, pushing the door open, he entered his own room and brought himself up to face his reflection again.

Yup, just as underwhelming as he remembered. Pretty stupid looking too, with a post-it note attached to his head and chest.

Using both hands, Branch removed the drawings. A couple of seconds passed where he did nothing but stare at them both. Two halves of a whole.

He placed Blue Branch and Grey Branch at either side of his mirror frame.

Another knot unwound itself from his stomach as he blinked back at his reflection. The image that stared back at him, was not all that appealing but… he had no urge to look away in disgust. That was something, at least.

_That was something, at least._

Branch chuckled softly. What kind of optimistic shit was his brain pulling here? Did it suddenly forget its usual cynical routine?

They were going to talk it out. They were going to clear things up. It was going to be okay again.

Maybe, just maybe, Branch could postpone his meltdown. He really didn’t feel like it right now.

* * *

“Oh my God, it’s about time!” Guy Diamond exclaimed, slamming a studded fedora on his head. After a brief admiration of himself in the mirror (and a check of the price tag) he placed it back down with sudden disinterest. “So, when are you gonna do it?”

Poppy, fiddling with the glitzy necklaces on a display rack, grimaced. “I was meaning to do it when we got back from Troll Town buuut…” She nervously jangled a bunch of beaded bracelets. “He’s been busy with studying and… and restaurant stuff and yoga and he’s really only been able to text me.”

Guy shrugged. “Just text him back saying you’re dumping his ass.”

“I can’t do that!” Poppy cried, appalled. She was just about to go on a tangent on the importance of Creek’s feelings, when the sound of an excitable squeak and the rapid click of high heels, impended towards them.

“Look what I found!” Satin sing-songed, pulling Guy by the shoulder and holding up a sequined jacket before him. “Pops, Pops, c’mere!” She ushered her closer. “Wouldn’t this look great on him?”

Poppy nodded, running a hand along the sleeve. “You gonna buy it, Diamond Boy?”

“He should.” Satin said sharply. “I mean, I’m a fantastic designer and if I give some couture my seal of approval, you know it’s gotta be good.”

Guy Diamond cleared his throat, momentarily snapping his eyes elsewhere. “Okay, so there’s no doubt in my mind it would look great on me buuut… I’m not really into it.”

The girls stared at him, incredulous.

“What do you mean you’re not into it?” Satin asked, almost offended that he wasn’t blown away by a garment that _she_ had personally picked out.

“Yeah, It’s sparkly.” Poppy added. “Isn’t that like all it takes to sell you things?”

“Well, not all of the time. Sometimes a man likes to try…” He trailed off under Satin’s suspicious glare. The two silently addressed each other for a moment before he admitted defeat.

With a sigh, Guy held out his hand to reveal among his many rings, was a new dazzling addition.

Poppy oooohed respectfully.

Satin was less impressed. “You spent the last of your money on a diamond ring, didn’t you?” She deadpanned.

Guy opened his mouth to say something, thought about it, clasped his jaw shut and nodded, eyes rooted to the floor.

“How could such a beautiful boy be such an idiot?”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“I can’t believe this!” She groaned.

“Satin, please. Back to the part where you called me beautiful?”

“And how exactly,” She jabbed his chest with a pointed manicured finger. “Do you plan on eating?”

Guy pondered the question. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to invite me over for dinner.”

There was a pause as she processed his sentence. “…. You fucker.” was Satin’s hushed response. “That was actually pretty smooth.”

Guy’s even expression cracked into a grin “It was?!” He looked delighted with himself. “And-and I just thought of that as I said it, I didn’t even come up with it the night before!”

“You gotta _prepare_ your pick-up lines, Guy?” Poppy smirked.

“Yeah!” He nodded, already whipping out his phone. “Usually they come to me at like three AM and I write them down in my notes.”

“Have they ever actually worked?” Satin peered curiously over his shoulder.

He looked up for a moment, staring thoughtfully into space. “I think it worked once…”

“When?”

“Two minutes ago.” He turned to Satin eagerly. “Did it work? Please confirm or deny. I’m actually kinda not sure and would appreciate clarification…”

Satin chewed on a smile and shrugged, holding up the jacket. “I’m… gonna go put this back.” And with a turn of her heels and a swish of her hair batting against his cheek, she was off. She strutted down to the men’s department before Guy could even squeak out a dismayed “Satin!”

Releasing a giggle, Poppy approached a wordlessly gaping Guy Diamond and threw an arm around his shoulder. “You tried, buddy. Hey, lemme take a look at your pick-up lines. I’m sure they’re smooth as Hell.”

He was still holding his phone up, frozen in his stance as Poppy took the liberty of uncurling his fingers from around the device and bringing it up to her own eyes.

At that second, the phone buzzed and Poppy just caught a glance at Creek’s name before Guy Diamond, who had snapped out of his trance, snatched the phone from her grasp. His thumb smashed down on ‘Ignore’ without a second thought.

Poppy quirked a brow, puzzled. “You’re not gonna answer Creek?”

“Nah.”

“Aren’t you two like… best friends?”

“Well, yeah.” Guy didn’t look at her as he responded, holding his phone up higher so she couldn’t see what he was tapping at. “I just…. I’m out with you and Satin. It’d be rude to pick up, wouldn’t it? Say, uh, when did you say you were gonna dump Creek?”

“Break up, Guy. Break up with Creek.” Poppy sighed, checking her own phone for the time. “I said I was coming over to his place, once he finishes up with yoga. I should probably head over there now. You leaving anytime soon?”

“Uh, no I’m gonna stay here and…” Guy glanced across the store. “Shop.”

Poppy looked in the same direction, her eyes settling on Satin before turning back to him. “Shop?”

He nodded. “Shop.”

With a smirk, she leaned forward and slapped her palms down on Guy Diamond’s shoulders. “I wish you the best of luck, my sparkly wise man friend.”

He mirrored the action, amused. “You too, my weird flamingo girl companion.”

Shoppers were probably quite confused by the two flamboyantly dressed young people who had pulled each other into a tight farewell hug in the middle of a clothing store.

After they had parted, Poppy also pulled Satin into an embrace on her way to the exit. The other girl beamed, lightly tucking some hair behind Poppy’s ear. “Good luck with whatever it is.” She whispered.

Poppy had not told Satin about her future conversation with Creek but the tight grasp of that hug must have told her everything she needed to know. While Satin wasn’t sure of the details, she knew damn well that Poppy was dreading whatever was to come.

Inhaling deeply, Poppy fell into the busy sidewalk, dodging grumpy Bergens and humming 'Get Back Up Again' as she made her way to Creek’s apartment.

* * *

“I still can’t believe she just kicked me out!” Satin complained, as the two fashionable friends contented themselves with window shopping. “Like I get it, Chen pined _a lot_. But couldn’t they have gone to Suki’s place to get some privacy? Would that have been so hard? Sisters, I swear…”

Guy Diamond hummed in agreement, admiring a silk scarf and internally cursing his impulse control regarding his new ring. “Well, I think there’s only one thing you can do in this situation.”

“What?”

“Bring a boyfriend back home and kick _her_ out.”

“Cool, where do I get the boyfriend?”

Guy wiggled his eyebrows, only to get immediately whacked with a shopping bag.

He laughed. “I’m just joking!”

Satin chuckled, with a roll of her eyes. “So, are you coming over for dinner tonight then?”

He quirked a brow. “While I did imply that I would appreciate one, I don’t recall receiving an invitation. Do I happen to be getting it now or…?” He drawled, leaning in playfully.

She shoved him away by the nose. “I don’t think you need the invitation. I just assumed you were going to show up tonight anyway.”

Guy placed a hand over his chest, with a dramatic gasp. “Where would you get the notion that I would arrive uninvited?”

“Because you want to see me again later.” Satin stated, without missing a beat. “And you don’t want to keep me waiting.”

_Welp, time to pack up your pick-up lines and go home. This girl wins the flirting game._

“You… are pretty good at this.”

“I am.”

He chuckled, just a tad nervously. “Well, alright then. I’ll be seeing you later?”

Satin winked, clicking her tongue as the two of them parted ways, Guy wondering just how smooth he was, on a scale of one to ten.

_TEN! SOLID TEN! It was amazing! You’re amazing!_

Yeah. Damn straight. He was amazing.

Strolling down Bergen Town park with a bounce to his step as he internally arranged the outfit he would be wearing tonight, his phone buzzed again.

Guy Diamond fished the device out of his pocket and thumbed green. “Hello, gorgeous.”

“Good afternoon, beautiful.” Creek’s voice hissed through the receiver. He was undoubtedly irritated. “So, you’ve finally decided to stop being a child and answer your blasted phone, have you?”

“Well, I answer my phone. Just not to you.” Guy said easily, settling himself down on a nearby bench. “But you’re lucky. You caught me in a good mood. Now, what exactly do you want?”

The silence on the other end, told him everything he needed to know.

Guy made no attempt to hide his amused snort.

“Shut up.” Creek muttered.

“You don’t actually have a reason, do you? You just wanted me to answer the phone. And now that I’m here, you got nothing to say. You’re a piece of work, Creek.”

“W-well, why _did_ you answer?” He retorted.

“Not really as mad as I was on Saturday. I mean, Poppy’s dumping you anyway so I figure it’s time to-”

“Wait, what?!” Creek’s tone raised an octave in panic.

Guy straightened his back, confused at his friend’s alarm. “Yeah? She said she sent you a text telling you she was coming over to talk, what did you think she meant?”

“I…” Creek paused. “Not that, anyway…”

“Well, sorry for… giving it away. Y’know,” Guy scratched thoughtfully along his chin. “This is a good thing, Creek. Let’s be honest here, you weren’t a good match for Poppy. But listen, you’re behaviour’s been kinda dick-ish lately but maybe, once you’re officially broken up, you can actually-”

Creek hung up.

Quite frankly, Guy Diamond wasn’t surprised.

There was always that itsy bitsy shred of optimism that believed that Creek could change for the better once he let this relationship go. However, Guy sometimes wondered if he was too far gone to improve. The thought itself made him feel uncomfortable, considering it concerned his close friend, losing himself entirely, only to become whatever apathetic monster was running loose these days.

But despite it all, Guy Diamond still hoped for the best.

* * *

Shoving it forcefully into the sink, Creek accidentally smashed a bowl. Alright, so it probably wasn’t the best idea to do the dishes while he was stressed.

Grabbing a dish towel to dry his soapy hands, he stepped away from the counter and began to pace.

Creek liked to believe he had a lot of patience. He tolerated Poppy and her nonsense. He bended to her every whim and even apologized when she started whining that she didn’t like his hand on her back.

He didn’t complain when she threw a tantrum and humiliated him in front of the entire bar. He started touching her less and less because she requested it. Creek had become perfect example of a respectable boyfriend.

Who the bloody Hell did Poppy think she was? She just decided that she had the right to throw him away. As if this relationship was about her, to begin with.

Branch. Branch definitely had something to do with it. Even after he had promised not to get involved with Poppy’s decision making. He had done it. He had poked his huge nose into something that was none of his business and convinced her to leave Creek. Hell, he probably talked her into it the night they slept together. Creek didn’t even want to think about what they got up to, that night.

He stopped by the kitchen table and slapped his palm down on the surface, flipping a few pages in the magazine laying open until he reached the poetry corner. He snapped an image of F.B Blue’s latest work and sent it to Branch without a word. He didn’t want to speak to the asshole right now but he did want to remind him of their prior arrangement.

Alright, this was bad, he thought, continuing to circle his apartment. This was very, very bad. He had come too close for this to happen now. This couldn’t happen. He wasn’t going to let it happen.

Suddenly, Creek came to a halt as the idea that he had only vaguely considered, came to him. He never actually thought it would have to come to this.

He turned and approached his window side bookshelf. It was relatively uncluttered and decorated with shiny rocks, ornaments, a small potted cactus and a single seashell encased picture frame. The only possession on the shelf that Creek hadn’t allowed to gain a sheet of dust. Dandi’s exhausted smile shone through the glass, the plump bundle in her arms, wrapped in a purple baby blanket.

There were things Creek didn’t wish to discuss. But sometimes, you need to take a good, hard look at your options and realize that it’s your final shot. Luckily for him, Poppy was quite the sap.

In the words of that mind-numbing song that she was constantly singing, Creek was not giving up today.

Entering the bathroom and pulling open his mirror cabinet, he rummaged around until he found some menthol chest rub. He scooped a jelly-like lump on his finger and rubbed it against a sheet of toilet paper.

There was a hesitant knock at the door.

“One second!” Creek shouted, hastily running the paper under his eyes until they were appropriately red, irritated and watering.

He took a deep breath as he neared the door. One shot. He only had one shot.

Opening the door just a crack, he poked his head through to address Poppy.

Her reluctant and worried expression shifted into concern as she set eyes on Creek. “U-um, hi. Are-are you-”

“Ahh, Poppy,” Creek sighed, stepping back and allowing her entrance. He turned his back to her and ran a seemingly frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about this. I’m really sorry. I knew you were coming over and I really should have held it in but…”

“No, no. Creek, Creek it’s-it’s okay!” Poppy hurried to comfort him, trailing behind and plopping down beside him as he landed on his mattress. “Do you, uh, do you wanna talk about it?”

Creek shook his head, pulling his knees up his chest in an effort to look pitifully childlike. “It’s alright. I’m-I’m sorry for delaying you. You wanted to have a talk with me, yeah? I just need a moment and… and then you can tell me whatever it is you came here to tell me.”

Poppy didn’t respond and Creek could only imagine that she was tucking her break up speech away for another day. Hopefully.

He wondered how long the two of them could sit in silence before he had to resume talking. Couldn’t she just say “I love you” and get the Hell out of his home?

“Do you, uh, do you wanna hear about my day?” Poppy tried cautiously. “If you don’t wanna talk about yours, that is.”

_God, no. Say something before you get her started._

“It’s just…” Creek began, throwing together a sympathetic monologue in his head. God, he hoped he could pull this off. “Today’s um… it’s my Mum’s birthday and…”

_Oh, yeah. Her actual Birthday’s in two months. Don’t forget to save up for that toaster she wants._

“Awww, Creek…” A hand was now rubbing along his back, a touch Creek did not care for. “Is it…. do you miss her? Is that it?”

“Well…” Yes. He decided. Creek was going to play this card. “I do miss her an awful lot. But just thinking about my mum’s birthday, got me thinking of my mum and her life and….” He turned to face her. “Darling, did I ever tell you about my Dad?”

Poppy’s brow scrunched to recall. She shook her head. “I… I don’t think so. I didn’t think you had a Dad, honestly.”

Creek chuckled weakly. “Well, I don’t. Not really. Not anymore…”

“What do you mean?” She prompted, at once.

Well, she was curious now. Looks like he was definitely doing this. “My Dad, he was...” Creek inhaled deeply. If he was going to talk about his father, he couldn’t actually get angry. He needed to get Poppy’s pity, not startle her. “Before I was born, my Mum and my Dad loved each other very much. Well, Mum loved him anyway. That’s what she always tells me but… one day, he left.”

Creek took a moment to let Poppy absorb the words, while also making an effort to calm himself.

“He… he left?” Poppy asked softly. “Why?”

Creek gave a rather hopeless shrug. “I don’t know. Mum always says that Dad was so kind, so loving but one day, he just abandoned her and…. ever since then, the idea of getting thrown away like that…. thrown away like Mum was… I-I really don’t know if I could handle it.”

_Break Creek’s poor heart, Poppy. I dare you._

He decided to push the envelope just a tiny bit more. “Poppy.” He whispered, leaning under her bowed head to look into her eyes. He could tell by the expression. The sob story had been successful. “Is it-is it alright if I take your hand? I know you said you’re a bit weird about me touching you but-”

She quickly shook her head, her lips quivering as she seized hold of his hand, squeezing tightly. “I-I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that happened. I didn’t-I had no idea, Creek. God, I’m so, so sorry.”

_You fucking should be._

“Hey, hey, now, it’s alright….” Creek soothed. “You don’t need to be upset. That’s not you at all, is it? Where’s my happy Poppy when I need her?”

“Oh my God!” She threw a hand over her mouth, eyes popping. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You’re going through a rough time right now and I’m just…wow. Okay. I should be comforting _you_. Creek, I-”

“Poppy,” He cut her off with a light laugh. “Everything is just fine. You see, all I wanted to say to you is…” With his right hand in the grasp of hers, he used his left to stroke along her chin. “I’m so happy that I have someone like you. Because I know you’re not like _him_. You’re not the abandoning type. And I just love you so, so much. You know that, don’t you?”

“I-I, uh,” She shuffled uncomfortably in her spot. “I love you too?”

_Well, that didn’t sound right at all._

Creek allowed his shoulders to slump, releasing a sad chuckle that may tug at a heartstring or two. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me but…” He caught her eyes widening with obvious guilt. “I don’t know if you mean that, at all.”

“I do!” Poppy insisted, looking panicked. “I do mean that!”

Creek shook his head, hoping his smile looked strained enough. “I suppose I might not be the kind of person people actually love. Maybe I’m just like Mum. Destined for people to tell me they love me and-”

“I’m not like your Dad!” She was on the verge of screaming. “I’m not like him at all! I wouldn’t-I wouldn’t do that to you, I love you…I-I-I…” Her hands were flailing about, at a loss on what to do next. Finally, she blurted out the magic words. “I’ll prove it!”

Creek’s head shot up at a lightning speed. He looked at her, his facing feigning curiosity. “Prove it?”

Poppy nodded. “Um. So, I gotta-I gotta get home and get my class stuff done but tomorrow, I promise. We’ll go on a date somewhere and-and I-l’ll prove that I love you. Is…. does that sound okay?”

_Sounds fantastic._

“Perfect.” Creek said simply, careful not to let his excitement spill out. “How about we meet up at our spot?”

She seemed puzzled. “Our… we have a spot?”

“Bergen Town Bridge. Where we kissed the first time?”

Poppy’s eyes glassed as she seemed to relive a memory. Suddenly, her face melted into guilt as she nodded. “Uh, yeah. Our spot. I remember it. Okay, we’ll meet there.”

Her jaw felt stiff as Creek pulled it towards him, immense relief washing over him as he prodded her nose with a whispered “Boop.”

Poppy smiled brightly. Or was it defeated? Either way, Creek was satisfied.

* * *

Her shoelaces were undone.

Trudging down the hall until she reached her flat, Poppy was gazing downwards in an almost dreamlike state. Yet she found herself unable to muster the energy to tie them.

Her attempted break up with Creek had not gone according to plan. In fact, it had gone in the complete opposite direction. Poppy may have also promised Creek something she rightfully shouldn’t have.

But really, what else could she have done?

Maybe there were a million things but Poppy wasn’t the logical thinker here. That was Branch.

Branch.

She had been thinking about Branch a lot. Somewhere between the jumbled up speeches that she planned in her head to gently end things with Creek, the grump had slipped in between the lines, poking insistently at her brain, wondering just where he would fit into all of this.

Personally, Poppy didn’t believe that Branch would ever be interested in her. The thought alone, just seemed so un Branch-like. To her knowledge, he wasn’t the romance sort anyway.

But there were some things that she had come to realize in her time spent living with him.

Branch had never really liked himself.

Branch held on to every single one of her invitations.

Branch called her his friend.

Branch could write poetry.

Branch was good with children.

Branch didn’t like to see her upset.

Branch was willing to go as far to kissing her cheek, if it meant easing the thought of an unpleasant memory.

Branch, someone she had known all her life as a somewhat predictable grumpy kid, could be absolutely packed full of surprises. And maybe, just maybe, he still had one more to reveal to her.

But that was wishful thinking and, as Poppy had been learning lately, maybe Branch was on to something with his pessimistic attitude. If you get your hopes up, it ends up hurting a whole lot more when they get crushed.

Although somehow, she just couldn’t let that little hope go, even in her current situation. But either way, if she was really doing this was Creek, it didn’t matter at all how Branch felt.

Poppy sighed, exhausted with having to think so much as she unlocked the door.

“Your shoe’s untied.” Was her greeting, the usual low monotone spiked with some exuberance.

Branch was standing in the hallway, hands on his hips, jacket thrown off and his lip twitching relentlessly as if he was _trying_ to keep his usual stoic expression. But the light in his eyes, more awake than ever, revealed that he was in an entirely different mood than the tired, hollow voiced boy who couldn’t even manage to swallow a spoonful of cereal this morning.

“You’re looking well.” Poppy responded dryly. She really wasn’t sure what else to say. How did Branch deal with this every time _he_ came home in a sour mood?

He shrugged, a smirk settling into place as he came closer and placed his hands down on her shoulders. “Poppy, listen. What I did, is fucking amazing and you’re going to love it. C’mon.”

She was gently but eagerly tugged into the living room as Branch’s hand curled her wrist. He didn’t seem to register her tone or atmosphere whatsoever, as he was too preoccupied with the excitement of having her home.

“Look at this shit.” He gestured proudly over the scene.

The couch was cleared of the usual stray laundry hanging over the edge. There was not a pen, book or magazine, in sight. It might have even been vacuumed. The cushions were pressed and displayed neatly, Spongy the Dolphin, nestled happily in between.

The coffee table was pulled up close so it was within reaching difference and good God, Poppy had to feel a touch of warmth at what she saw. Tubs of cotton candy, bowl of popcorns, bowls of candy, bouquets of lollipops, boxes of cookies, bars of chocolate, bakery bought cupcakes. On any other day, Poppy would have shrieked in celebration. But right now, all she could do was stare in shock, only realizing now, that Branch was currently talking her ear off.

“-So, I get that it might get sort of awkward so I was thinking “Could Poppy really be uncomfortable when she’s surrounded by a shit ton of candy?” so I just decided that it would probably be the best thing to do. I also bought vodka but it’s not even seven yet so…. that’s for later. Anyway it’s-”

“Branch.” She cut him off, still flabbergasted. “Why-why did you buy all this?”

“Our talk.” He replied, looking at her curiously. “That we’re having tonight. As I said, I just figured it would be easier for us to talk if we had-”

Poppy zoned out briefly as Branch continued to ramble. She had forgotten that they had promised to discuss things tonight.

They couldn’t do this. Not tonight, anyway. They couldn’t have their talk _now_.

_Well, with the way things are going with Creek, I dunno if the talk is ever gonna happen._

Poppy had thought she would be broken up with Creek by now. She thought that they would be free to finally get their thoughts on everything out, sleeping incident included.

But now this situation with Creek had bumped itself up to the top of her worries list. She was going to have to prove to him she loved him tomorrow. Branch was excited to have a talk about some things that Poppy really couldn’t tell him right now. She needed to make it stop.

“Branch.” Poppy said evenly. “I-I’m sorry but… we can’t have the talk right now.” She spit the words out as quick as possible.

The smile that he had been trying so hard to contain, easily evaporated. His entire frame drooped with her words, his sky eyes clouding over. “Oh.” Branch nodded, his bottom lip struggling for a form that wasn’t a grimace. Or even worse, a quiver. “Okay. Th-That’s okay. We’ll just-we’ll do it another time.” And he left. Briskly crossing the room, Branch switched on the kitchen light and entered.

Poppy remained in place for a moment, before she followed.

She found him parked at the table, her collection of markers and doodles still everywhere as Branch, with his brow locked in concentration, scribbled away at another post-it note. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that he wasn’t drawing anything in particular. Using a pencil, he seemed to just be determined on coating the entire sheet in grey. Poppy wondered if he was just trying to make himself look busy.

Poppy sat down at the opposite chair and for a couple of minutes, all was still.

Okay, they really needed to get rid of that clock. The goddamn object seemed to just thrive on silence, it’s ticks practically at full volume.

“I’m really sorry.” Poppy muttered.

“It’s fine.” Branch said mildly, still focused on the paper.

“I-I know it was my idea and-and I know we both promised but-”

“It’s. Fine.” He ground out.

“I wanted to! Like I really wanted to get stuff out of the way so everything wouldn’t be as-”

An irritated hand slapped down on the surface, causing the table to shake. “Poppy, for fuck’s sake, I said it’s fine!” Branch barked, before forcing his head back down. “Now, there’s all sorts of candy out there. Eat if you want, not like I want any…” His fingers slid up to rest against his temple.

Branch’s outburst froze over the atmosphere but despite that, Poppy didn’t budge. She definitely didn’t feel like candy now. Fidgeting nervously with the bracelets on her wrists, her mind swam with thoughts of Creek, as her stomach lurched. It felt like all other options had been sealed shut and Poppy was very reluctant to pass that single door.

But Branch would know. Branch usually knows.

“So, uh…” She cleared her throat.

The motion of his pencil slowed but otherwise, he didn’t look up.

“I- um. Me and Creek were talking today and-”

Branch’s head snapped up momentarily. They locked gazes for an instant before his eyes retreated.

“What’s with that look?” Poppy blurted out.

He shook his head. “I didn’t give you a look.”

“You did! You’re mad. You’re mad about something.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“No, actually, I’m…” Branch trailed off, trying to keep his voice even. The strokes along the paper got more vigorous as he continued. “I’m fine. I’m delighted, you know. Just absolutely _ecstatic_ ,” He hissed the word out. “That despite everything, at least you got the chance to have a nice, long talk with _Creek_. I bet your relationship is so much clearer now. I’m just so fucking happy for you.”

His words leaked with a kind of aggression that Poppy neither understood nor appreciated. “You don’t need to talk like that just ‘cause you’re in a bad mood, Branch.” She replied, surprised by the ice in her tone.

His pencil ripped the paper in half. Without missing a beat, he snatched another one from the block. “I wasn’t in a bad mood, come to think of it. Was in a pretty good mood today, really. Still am. Just peachy.”

“Well, you got a funny way of showing it.” Her frustration was building more and more by the second. “Your housemate comes home after a long day, tells you she can’t talk and you start biting her fucking head off.”

Branch scoffed. “Oh, you had a long day? Apologies. Well, I’m glad that despite it all, you still managed to have your talk with Creek. That is the most important part of the day, after all.”

“Talking to Creek is the _reason_ I can’t talk to you!” Poppy all but shrieked, shooting upwards to glare down at him.

This was apparently not the appropriate response as Branch flared up, also standing and scraping the legs of his chair in the process. “Fantastic!” He exclaimed. “Good to know that if it comes between us, it’s Creek that gets the talk. I mean, the guy totally deserves it after all he’s done for all of us.”

“Branch, can you…?” Poppy tried to compose herself. This was not the time to get riled up in a silly argument. “Just listen to me for a second, please.”

He held his hands out dramatically, still evidently holding in some steam. “I’m all ears!”

“What do you, uh, just-just what do you think of me and Creek?”

The aggressive stance he had taken, loosened slightly as he blinked at the question. “I-I… what?” He asked blankly.

Poppy moved across the table to approach him. “Me and Creek being in a relationship. What do you think of it?”

Branch moved like a bullet, seizing the magazine on the table and almost diving a step back. “W-w-what the fuck kind of answer are you expecting out me? Your relationship is none of my business!”

“I just need an answer!” Poppy begging, moving closer as Branch backed away. She stopped, once he collided with the wall. “I-I just… there’s something I gotta do and…”

_Please just tell me what to do. I’m lost._

Suddenly, his widened eyes narrowed into slits and he took a firm step forward, making Poppy jump back in the process. “No.” He said fiercely. “Poppy, this isn’t my job. I can’t just keep telling you what you should and shouldn’t do with Creek. Can’t you-can’t you just leave me out of it, for fuck's sake?!”

Poppy felt as though she had been slapped. A wave of guilt welled up inside of her, crashing over so many other things. But there was too much and she didn’t want to just shut up and say sorry. She wanted to throw something, break something. Branch happened to be the only thing around worth breaking, with how much of a prick he was being. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs because goddammit, this situation had knock knocked her the fuck over and what would even happen if she got back up again? She would be flattened into the fucking ground, that’s what.

Branch talking her out of it, was her last hope. But he wanted nothing to do with it. It was her fault, it really was, but despite it all, she couldn't help but build up a resentment to the boy in front of her.

“Fuck you.” said Poppy softly, turning her back to him and walking out into the hallway.

“Fuck you!” She heard him retort at twice the volume as she pushed her bedroom door open. She grabbed herself a strap bag and shoved in a pair of pajamas and a hairbrush before throwing it over her shoulder.

Poppy didn’t want to touch it. It felt wrong to do so, but right now, she didn’t really see any choice in the matter. With a wince, she picked up her cowbell. Her instrument, her family’s instrument. A love token in its own right. She inhaled sharply and tightened her grip on it as she exited her room.

“I’m leaving.” She stated, to Branch who was just heading for his own room as she emerged.

“Where?”

“Doesn’t matter. I just don’t want to be in the same building as you right now.”

He didn’t respond, his expression hardening into stone as he disappeared into his room, locking his door in the process.

“I said I’m leaving, asshole. You don’t need to lock it.”

Silence.

With an aggravated huff, she gave his door a forceful kick. It took a solid second before she gasped at the throbbing pain in her toe before angrily limping out and slamming the door behind her.

With her teeth grinding and her eyes set dead ahead, Poppy stomped through the hallway, her heart on fire and fully ready to punch someone in the jaw.

And then she tripped, full on smashing her face against the carpet.

She really should have tied her shoes.

With a final sigh and a childish whine, Poppy slammed her head down into the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all ready for some more AAAAAAAAAAART
> 
> [Shhhhh](https://le-poule.tumblr.com/post/159456882653)
> 
> [AWOKEN!!](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/159403125488)
> 
> [pls be quiet he sleep](https://crazydaydreamerz.tumblr.com/post/158911945091)
> 
> [THEY SLEEP](http://frootpunch.tumblr.com/post/158906677185)
> 
> [Ssssh so much sleeping](http://azahlea-valonir.tumblr.com/post/158876581942)
> 
> And that's just tumblr. Btw Jinelys_art on Instagram illustrated a bunch of scenes from the last chapter so you should definitely take a look at those, they're adorable.


	17. Chapter 17

_“Keep ‘em closed, okay?”_

_Poppy nodded, eyes screwed shut and catching hazy visions of color from behind her eyelids. The chaotic noises of recess, kept her twitching in agitation. She only realized just how much there was to see, when she couldn’t see at all._

_Unsurprisingly, Poppy peaked. One eye squinted open to find Branch, rummaging in his puppy patterned backpack._

_She smiled, feeling the familiar burst of pride at the sight of it. Poppy had given him that bag on his sixth birthday and Branch had not been seen without it since._

_His head shot up. “I said close ‘em!” He ordered, pointing a stubby finger in her direction._

_Poppy giggled, her tongue poking mischievously between her teeth as her hands slapped over her face. “When do I get to look?”_

_“Found it!” He declared triumphantly._

_“Huh?” Her fingers spread between her eyes. She caught him hastily tucking something behind his back as he spotted her looking, yet again._

_Branch scowled, placing his free hand on his hip. “Poppy, you can look in a sec. But just not yet.”_

_“Fiiiiiiine.” She obeyed with a groan. “But I’ve had my eyes closed forever, hurry up.”_

_“It’s only been a minute.”_

_“It feels like ninety-nine hundred minutes!”_

_“I think that many minutes is like a whole day.”_

_She heard the sound of crinkling plastic. A candy wrapper? Did Branch have candy? This changed everything. How was she supposed to keep her eyes shut now?_

_“Okay, you can look.”_

_Poppy couldn’t be told fast enough._

_Branch was knelt on his knee, for whatever reason. Weird, considering he didn’t like to get his pants dirty. But what drew Poppy’s attention, was the bright pink ring pop that he was holding up before her. “Will you-”_

_“You got me candy!” She squealed with an excitable bounce._

_Branch blinked, irritated at being interrupted. “Yeah, but-but…. hey, no, not like that!” He threw himself back as Poppy lunged at him, slapping away her grabby hands._

_Poppy pouted, slumping down on the grass across from him. “How come? You said it was mine.”_

_“Yeah, but tha’s not how it works.”_

_“How what works?”_

_“Porposing.”_

_She cocked her head quizzically. “Porposing?”_

_“Por-….” Branch furrowed his brow and took a moment to stare thoughtfully into space, his bottom lip hanging loose. Finally, he gave a definite nod. “Yeah, porposing. Tha’s the word.”_

_“And… what does it mean?”_

_“Means we get married.”_

_Poppy’s hands flew dramatically over her mouth as she shook her head. “Nuh uh! No, no, no, we can’t do that!”_

_“Why not?” Branch asked, clearly perplexed by her objection._

_“Daddy says you get married when you grow up, not when you’re a kid.”_

_“I’m six now, I’m not a kid!”_

_“Well, I’m five!” She retorted. “And I’m not getting married until I’m bigger. I won’t find a dress that’ll fit.”_

_Branch opened his mouth but his loud voice staggered and fell to a murmur when he realized he didn’t think his sentence through. He scrunched up his face to construct an adequate reply. A silence settled between them._

_Waiting for Branch to piece his words together, Poppy raked her gaze over the goings on of recess. She found herself momentarily mesmerised by the rhythm of Suki’s skipping rope and her thick ponytail bouncing with every jump._

_“Y’know, we don’t gotta get married now.” Branch finally said, quieter than before. “Porposing only means that… that you promise.”_

_Poppy adjusted her legs into a criss-crossed position. “What do we promise?”_

_“That we’ll get married someday. When-when we’re bigger.” He muttered, his sky gaze set on his shoe laces. “Tha’s what they did on T.V anyway…”_

_“Does that mean I get the ring pop?”_

_Branch sighed. “In the movie, the boy got on his knee and the girl said yes. We gotta do it like that but I dunno if I’m supposed to give you the ring if you say no. The movie didn’t tell me what to do there…”_

_“Maybe you throw it away?” Poppy shrugged._

_He gawked, absolutely appalled. “It cost me a dollar and sixty cents, I’m not throwing it away!”_

_“Okay, um… I’ll take the ring!” She chirped._

_“You will?”_

_“Well, yeah. It’s strawberry and that’s my favorite. Hey, how come you wanna get married?”_

_“’Cause I love you.” Branch said, as if it were obvious._

_Poppy’s lip pursed in doubt. “Nuh uh.” She knotted her arms._

_“I do!” He insisted, scooching nearer._

_She shook her head. “No. Daddy says you don’t love people ‘til you’re older.”_

_“That’s not true!”_

_“It is. He says I gotta wait ‘til I’m big to give my cowbell away ‘cause that’s when I’ll feel grown-up love.”_

_“Well, what about me? I feel grown- up love now!”_

_“No, you don’t.”_

_“Yeah, I do!”_

_“You don’t!”_

_“I do!”_

_It was unclear as to when their voices raised to squabbling levels or when their faces had neared inches apart to fight their contrasting views but it was Branch to reluctantly pull away. His bottom lip jutted outward in a pout. “So… you don’t love me at all, then?”_

_Poppy blinked incredulously before automatically tipping forward and throwing her arms clumsily around his neck. Hugging him tight, she planted a firm kiss on Branch’s plump cheek as he shrieked out a laugh._

_“I love you a whole lot.” She confirmed, smushing their cheeks together. “I love you and I love Suki and I love Biggie and I love Chenille and I love Creek-”_

_“But not grown-up love, right?”_

_She shook her head. “Gotta wait for that ‘til we’re bigger for that. But, when I do love you like a grown-up, we can get married!”_

_Branch’s hands were scratching each other with uncertainty. “But what if you don’t love me like that when we’re grown-ups though?”_

_“I will. ‘Course, I will.” Poppy was baffled as to what would make him think otherwise. Love was easy for grown-ups, after all._

_“And-and…” He looked at her hopefully. “And you’ll tell me? You’ll tell me when you love me?”_

_She nodded. “Yeah. I tell you I love you all the time. ‘Course, I’ll still tell you when we’re big.”_

_Branch mumbled something under his breath, as he half-heartedly shredded blades of grass._

_“Huh?”_

_“I said,” He cleared his throat. “That Gramma says that people don’t always say “I love you” when they’re grown-ups. Sometimes they keep it a secret.”_

_Poppy laughed. “That’s dumb.”_

_Branch nodded. “Real dumb.”_

_Another silence. Neither one of them batted an eye, as a screeching Creek and Guy rushed past, dripping in glitter and silver paint, a series of plastic googly eyes glued to their faces. After a solid seven seconds, a teacher charged after them. They must have gotten into the art cabinet again._

_He nudged her leg with his knee. “Hey,”_

_She glanced over to find his little finger held up tentatively. “If-if you do love me when we grow up, you’ll tell me, right? You promise?”_

_Poppy beamed and without hesitation, linked her finger with his own. “Promise!”_

_Branch grinned. An expression that only faded when yet another thought occurred to him. “Okay, so, um. No porposing yet?”_

_“I think we’re still too little, Branch.”_

_He nodded. “Do you, uh, do you still want the ring pop?” He asked, offering her the precious candy._

_Her fingers were too eager for her mouth to even manage a ‘Yes’ before she snatched it out of his grip and shoved it into her mouth. It didn’t occur to Poppy to share, until she caught Branch’s eyes, staring at her like a begging dog. With an exasperated sigh, she invited him to lick._

_They learned about the danger of germs the very next day._

* * *

The first thing that Poppy realized, was that her little spoon had vanished. Rolling over, with the rustle of bedclothes, she found that Suki had not in fact, migrated to the other side either. Suki was simply gone.

She reached over and pawed the bedside table until she located her phone. Its glow lit the darkened bedroom as Poppy read it as just a little past ten AM.

Well, it was nice of Suki to leave the curtains drawn, so Poppy could sleep in. Problem was, she had no idea what she was supposed to do now.

The shock of getting into an actual argument with Branch, left Poppy feeling stomach knotted and disoriented. It dulled considerably when she was admitted into her friend’s company, the energetic DJ instantly adopting a motherly tone to soothe her nerves. While Suki had urged an explanation for her clear distress, Poppy wanted none of it. She just wanted distractions. She needed distractions. She wanted bright colors and silly sounds. There was too much going on and she just wanted to forget everything and smile over something stupid again.

The two girls wound up watching movies late into the night, barely a word spoken between them. One thing that Suki had commented however, was that Poppy, throughout the entirety of three comedies, hadn’t so much as cracked a grin.

Once her sleepy mind adjusted, she acknowledged the trickling of running water, coming from the bathroom. Suki _was_ still here.

She didn’t want to pick herself up so, did the most logical thing she could think of. Releasing a heaving grunt, Poppy rolled. And she rolled. And she rolled until she reached the edge and dropped to the carpeted floor in a cocoon of blankets. For a couple of minutes, she lay there and whined pitifully, until she gathered the energy to stand.

Poppy crossed the bedroom, stepping on something sleek and cool with the light sound of creased paper. She picked up a discarded copy of Bergen Magazine and gave it a half-hearted skim through as she wandered into Suki’s kitchen.

There was shocking conflict of bare feet against porcelain tiles as Poppy paced, trying to submerge her mind with anything the magazine had to offer. The latest of Bergen Town fashions were pretty cute. Damn, these were some gorgeous models, how about that?

_Something else, something else..._

Gristle! Of course, how could she forget that Gristle had a weekly review?

Poppy flipped rapidly through the pages until she located the cuisine section and pinpointed her friend’s article. It took her a couple of seconds before she squinted, holding the issue at arm’s length.

Wow, okay. Gristle had quite an impressive vocabulary. Why did he never actually _talk_ like this? To be perfectly honest, Poppy couldn’t comprehend half of what it said. As far as she could tell, the restaurant was…. mediocre? At best? Had this man, or had he not, downed a heavily greased pizza for less than nine dollars and enjoyed every gosh dang bite? Gristle was really nice but…. wow, he could be weird sometimes.

Poppy reread the critique until she had it practically memorised, stubbornly avoiding the little wish that poked persistently at her thoughts.

No. She could read Gristle’s article all day. She didn’t need to even look at F.B Blue’s poem. Thinking back to her current situation, it couldn’t be anything remotely uplifting.

F.B was an oddity to Poppy. From what she understood, he was clearly a very, _very_ unhappy man and so many times, that was openly expressed. But he loved and when he loved, he loved deeply. He loved selflessly and no matter how bleak his outlook could seem, there was some unstoppable joy lighting up his heart, that bled through every sombre line.

While he contrasted from her so obviously, Poppy had picked up that F.B was living a life quite parallel to her own. She couldn’t count the number of times she had nodded at a stanza and mumbled “Me too, buddy.” under her breath. Every week without fail, no matter what was going on in her life, F.B Blue was undoubtedly dealing with something similar. Sometimes it was just hinting in a throwaway line but Poppy could always tell. Good God, she wanted to sit down and talk to this guy. Ask him about the ‘She’ in question and maybe help him out a bit. It’s the least she could do after resonating with him for so long.

Of course Poppy wanted to respect his privacy buuuuuuut, she might need to prod Gristle for some updates on F.B’s current state. As Gristle had mentioned on Saturday, the two of them were basically best friends right now.

Too absorbed with the thought of the poet to notice herself doing so, Poppy flipped to the Poetry Corner. She felt her brow twitch in irritation for her weak will, as she dropped on Suki’s couch.

_Welp, let’s see how shitty his week’s been._

Tucking her legs up under her, Poppy read in silence.

“Huh.” She whispered.

The words contained no more than the trademark pinch of sobriety that F.B was known for. But it was nowhere near as bleak as Poppy would have imagined. Another poem about the ‘She’ that he loved so dearly.

A flash of color popping between black and white text, caught her eye as she read downwards. Two lines had been marked with a bright orange highlighter.

_‘Open your heart, unlock your soul_

_Tell her the truth before you’re too old.’_

A door handle jiggled. “She lives?!” A playfully incredulous voice piped up from behind.

Poppy swivelled around to find Suki exiting the bathroom and towelling her damp hair. “She slept in, give her a break.”

Suki smirked as she neared the couch and affectionately ruffling her bubble gum locks, plopped down beside her. “Hey, so. I’m sorry, by the way.”

Poppy blinked. “Sorry? Whatcha do? Use up all the hot water again? Because I swear to God, Suki, I have had enough sleepovers with you to know that you always-”

“No, no. Christ!” Suki chuckled with a shake of her head. “For once, I _didn’t_ do that. Left enough for you. I promise.”

“Good. You’re a great friend and I’d hate to kill you.”

“I _am_ a great friend and I’d hate to die.”

Poppy giggled. “So, whatcha sorry for?”

Suki chewed her bottom lip and removed the towel from around her shoulders. “Like, you were totally in a really bad mood when you showed up here last night and like… was I too pushy? I might’ve been too pushy, with like, trying to get you to talk to me and all that and-and I’m sorry for that. Are we good, dude?”

“Aww, yeah, yeah. We’re good, we’re good. I wasn’t mad or nothin’ like that. I still love you, I promise.” Poppy assured her, taking her friend’s arm and lightly shaking it with a squeeze. “Sorry about last night though. I’m pretty sure I was like on some other planet and just…” She shook her head. “I wasn’t being me at all. I was pissed off and sad and weird. Sooooo yeaaaah, I probably came across as kinda angry, I guess? I’m waaaay better now though.”

Suki raised a brow. “Are you really though?”

Poppy's lip curled, toying with her fingers. “Thinking clearer anyway.” She shrugged.

“So, you ready to tell me what happened then?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Just a fight with Branch.” She forced the words out, in an attempt to sound as careless as possible.

In hindsight, it was an extremely childish squabble and for Poppy of all people to admit that, it was saying something.

“Branch?” Suki almost sounded disappointed. “But he was getting to be so much cooler. We had all that bonding time with him on Saturday. Did he just go and become a dick again?”

“No, no. He’s still nice. He really is.” Poppy responded instantly. “It was me. I just… didn’t wanna talk to him when I really should have and he got mad and then I got mad and it was just…” She raised her hands over her head and shook them helplessly, releasing a raspberry. “It was a mess. A really dumb argument too.”

“Well, you two _are_ pretty dumb people.”

“Thank you, Suki.”

She clicked a finger gun.

Poppy sighed. “But yeah, I’m gonna say sorry to him later.”

“Later?”

“He’s gotta work today. I dunno if he’d really want me calling him up when he’s busy.”

Suki hummed thoughtfully, reaching over the coffee table to retrieve her headphones. She didn’t plug them in but simply settled them around her neck, seeming to find comfort in the familiar weight. “So, you’re all okay then? Just gotta sort this fight out with Branch?”

_Well, there’s that whole love thing with Creek…_

“Yep.” Poppy enunciated with a pop of her lips. “Everything’s fine.” Shuffling upwards, she reflexively caught the open magazine as it was about to spill out of her lap.

“Poetry Corner, huh?” Suki observed, stretching a hair tie between her fingers and holding the thick orange mane atop her head. “Didn’t really think poems would be your thing.”

“Didn’t think they’d be _your_ thing.” Poppy held the page up to Suki’s face, pointing a finger to the orange line. “You did this, right?”

Suki blinked at the line before her eyes cleared in recognition as she nodded, with a broad grin.“Yeaaaaah, that was me. Funny story, actually.”

“It’s been a long week, dude. Gimme that funny story. I’m desperate for funny.”

“Okay, so,” Suki wasted no time in delving into her anecdote as she hastily tied up her hair. She hopped up, crossing her legs as her fingers found their way around the headphone cord, which she began to fiddle with. “So, remember when I texted you Sunday morning about Chenille and-?”

“And you told me you were dating her, yeah, I totally remember. Suki, I screamed! You really think I wouldn’t remember?”

Suki laughed, eager to continue. “Yeah, alright, so that happened on Sunday morning but I really started dating her officially on Saturday night.”

“After Guy’s show?” Poppy was definitely intrigued now, gradually starting to bounce in her spot. “Suki, are you gonna tell me how it happened? Please tell me this is the story of how it happened!”

Suki nodded, trying to contain her own excitement.

Poppy squeaked, hands flying over her cheeks. “All of it, I wanna hear all of it”

“I wanna tell you all of it!” Suki seized hold of Poppy’s shoulders. “Dude, it was a really good night. Like a really, _really_ good night. We danced so much. It was fucking fantastic. You should’ve been there!”

“I _was_ there!”

“Really? Oh, yeah, you were. You were-wow, okay. I didn’t notice shit, then. It was Chenille. Chenille was there, she was really all I was noticing. You gotta forgive me there.”

“Fine, fine,” Poppy hurried impatiently. “So, what happened?!”

“Okay, so, Satin left earlier ‘cause she had been up early that morning. But it’s like past midnight and Chenille did not wanna sleep at all. But also, like, we didn’t wanna leave each other? We wanted to stay hanging out for as long as we could. So, I told her she could come over and stay here for the night so she did. It was great, we talked a lot about…” Suki smiled. “Talked about everything, really.” She finished softly.

“Oh my God,” Poppy whispered, awed. “This was when you told her you liked her.”

“What? No I-”

“Did she tell you?”

Suki hushed her, plucking the magazine from Poppy’s hands. She held it up and cleared her throat. “’Open your heart, unlock your soul. Tell her the truth before you’re too old.’ Pretty line, huh?”

She nodded. “I thought so too. So, I was reading it last week and-”

“Last week?”

“Yeah. This is last week’s issue, Pops.”

_Huh. So, it’s still possible he might be having a shit week too._

“Okay, so anyway… Poppy? You listening?”

She snapped back to attention. “Yeah, sorry. Go on.”

“So, I read this last week, yeah? And y’know what it’s trying to say, right?”

“Uh. I think… tell her the truth? I mean, it says so right there.”

Suki nodded. “It’s basically just saying….” She threw her arms out carelessly. “Fuck it! Just fuck it! Tell her stuff, be honest with her or you’re gonna miss your chance. Just go for it and live!”

“Sooooo,” Poppy couldn’t hide her grin. “YOLO?”

“Get out of my house, Poppy.”

She gawked, offended. “How come Smidge can say it and I can’t?”

“Because if I told Smidge to shut up, I would get the shit kicked out of me. Now, do you wanna hear the story or not?”

“I’m dying here, dude. Keep going with the story.”

“That’s what I thought. So, yeah, I read this one line of this dumb poem and I’m thinking ‘Yeah, okay. This guy makes a good point. I should tell her, I should just tell her.’ So, I underlined it and I planned on telling her. I just… wasn’t sure when exactly…”

“You did it Saturday night!”

“I did it Saturday night! Buuuuut, it didn’t go how you think it would. So, Chenille. Sheeee…” Suki paused for dramatic effect. “She found it.”

Poppy gasped, eyes wide. “She found it?!” She cried, completely absorbed, as if she couldn’t piece together how this story ended, in an instant.

“She found it!” Suki practically shrieked, sounding equally panicked. “And she’s asking me about it and I’m like… ‘Wow, I dunno. Just thought the line was pretty, I guess’”

“Sukiiiii!” Poppy scolded. “You were supposed to tell her!”

“I know, I was gonna tell her! But-but it was unexpected, okay?! I didn’t think she was gonna find it and she did and-”

“What did ya do? What did ya do?!” Poppy was violently shaking her friend’s arm.

Suki shushed her, leaning in very close to Poppy’s face and quietly uttered. “She told _me_.”

Poppy squealed.

Suki fully encouraged it. “The fucking poem, dude! She looked at the line and thought the same thing I did. So, she just up and told me that she liked me and I couldn’t stop laughing.”

“You were laughing? Dude, she just told you she liked you. Don’t laugh, tell her you like her too.”

“I did! But it was just so out of fucking nowhere and I was like nervous and shocked but it was also pretty funny, y’know. But yeah, once I got my act together, I said I liked her too.”

“Oh my God…” Poppy said, grinning stupidly. “That’s cute. That’s really, really cute.”

“I know!” The stupid grin had spread to Suki’s face. “It was fucking adorable.”

“F.B got you a girlfriend, I can’t believe this.” She chuckled.

“I guess? He definitely had a hand in it anyway.”

“Okay, so, how’s it been going? You and Chenille?” She leaned forward with interest.

“Pretty good.” Suki nodded. “We’ve been texting a lot, talking a lot. She’s usually here or I’m usually at hers, we’re together a lot…”

“Yeah, Satin mentioned that.” Poppy smirked.

“What did Satin say?”

“That you and Chenille kicked her out of her own home. She was pretty offended. I would be too, I mean, wow, guys. Wow.”

Suki scoffed. “Satin pulled the exact same shit on us. She brought Guy back to her house last night and basically told us both to get out.”

“Please tell me you didn’t get out. That sounds like admitting defeat.”

“Well, _I_ did. I was trying to get Chenille to come back here and she wasn’t having it. Didn’t trust Guy alone with her sister, apparently.”

“How’d that go, anyway?”

“They couldn’t get him to leave. He slept on the couch.”

Poppy laughed.

“Hey,” Suki lightly poked a finger against her cheek. “You asked me how me and Chenille are. How are you and Creek?”

All trace of amusement instantly evaporated but she’ll be damned if she didn’t keep that bright smile on her face. Poppy had been having fun talking to Suki. She wasn’t going to be a downer anymore. “Great, fine, fantastic.”

“You sure? ‘Cause, on Saturday night, when he touched you and you-”

“Talked it out.” She cut through sharply. “We’re all fine and good.” The image of Creek’s red rimmed eyes still had a spot in the forefront of her mind. “Just fine. Hey, I’m hungry. Are you hungry? Suki, honey. We both know you’re a good cook, wanna hop to it and make us breakfast?”

Suki’s arms folded across her chest. She fixed Poppy with a stern look. “You wanna try that again, young lady?”

“Please?” Poppy attempted, with a wide-eyed smile. “You’re just so amazing at cooking, I thought that maybe-”

“Okay, fine. I’m hungry too. Cut the shit.” Suki rose from the couch, giving Poppy a light whack upside the head. “C’mon, let’s make something. Hey, y’know what we should do?”

“Hm?” Poppy followed, the magazine still under her arm. She settled down on a kitchen stool.

Suki opened the fridge and peered around inside, protruding a carton of eggs. “We should have a sleepover tonight.”

“We just had a sleepover last night.”

“Yeah, but I mean like… all of us. All the girls. It’d be fun.”

“Does that mean Chenille’s coming too?”

“She’s a girl, isn’t she?”

Poppy wrinkled her nose.

“What? What’s the matter with Chenille coming?” Suki smirked, leaning over the counter.

“It’s just that Satin says that when you and Chenille are together, you the kinda disgusting.”

There was a moment of silence. “Did she now?” asked Suki, her tone slow and calm.

Poppy nodded. “She did… what are you doing?”

Suki had whipped out her phone and was typing away, thumbs forcefully pounding the screen. “Adding another item to my shopping list.”

“What?”

“A sharpie. I’m gonna draw a dick on Satin’s face when she sleeps.”

“Dude, no.”

“Dude, yes.”

Poppy bit her tongue to stifle her giggle. Shouldn't let Suki believe she encouraged this after all. Raising a palm to cup her cheek, her gaze trailed down to skim across the magazine page, as the simple orange lines unknowingly burned an imprint in her mind.

* * *

Branch really wanted to go to bed.

The problem with this desire however, was that it was noon. And he was at work. And he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep if he tried, no matter how much his eyelids currently sagged.

The lunch crew came and went in a blur of drooping pizza and spilled cola on his jeans and now that he had been released for lunch, he wasn’t even sure what to do with himself. Or if he wanted to eat, at all.

Finding himself disconnected with the world around him, Branch wasn’t entirely sure when Biggie and Cooper had led him towards a booth but when he finally regained a semblance of consciousness, there was a plate of pizza on the table in front of him.

“Look at his little hat!” Biggie was gushing over his cat again, shoving his phone mere inches away from Cooper’s nose. “I swear, he is just the sweet, most placid little animal. I love him and I miss him and-”

“He looks kinda like a raw chicken before you cook it.” Cooper said thickly, through a full mouth. He swallowed. “But yeah, he’s cute.”

“He does not! Mr. Dinkles is a lovely little angel and just because he’s not fluffy like most cats, doesn’t mean he’s any less adorable.”

“Okay, but he still looks like a chicken.”

“No, he doesn’t!”

“Hey, Branch. Whatchu think? That cat looks like a-umph!”

Branch lifted his head.

Biggie had slapped a large hand over Cooper’s mouth, wearing an especially scolding look. With a sigh, he turned to Branch. “Sorry about him, Branch. I’ve been getting the feeling you’re fairly lost in thought right now. Don’t let us distract you.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah… yeah, okay.” His face sunk again, bleary gaze focused on nothing in particular.

Last night had been a very, _very_ long night for Branch. Little sleep, little food, bleeding fingers from persistent picking. Left in solidarity, still reeling in the aftermath of snapping at Poppy. But once she was gone, his thoughts only swarmed, every shrill tiny voice in his head, screeching that he fucked up. He fucked up bad and he drove Poppy away. He fucked up, he fucked up, he fucked up, he fucked up. The words still repeated on a loop but now, it could only chip away at his energy little by little. The night had already drained Branch of all he had.

Blank faced and hand twitching, he slowly pushed the plate of pizza out of the way, to clear his surface.

Biggie looked on, curious. “Branch? What’s the matter? Don’t feel like eating? Now, I don’t want to push you but I’d recommend it. You look awfully pale and -Branch!”

The entire table suddenly shook, plates and cutlery clattering as Branch violently threw his head downwards, forehead smashing against solid wood. “FUCK, OW!” He yelled, pressing a hand over the pounding flesh.

“The Hell you do that for?” Cooper questioned, his complete bewilderment weighing over his concern.

“I don’t know!” Branch snapped, rubbing his forehead until it was red. “I’m just-I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Branch.” Biggie said gently.

“Biggs, he just slammed his head on the table. Seems pretty stupid to me.”

Branch didn’t care to look up at the exchange but he could feel Biggie’s warning expression.

Cooper mumbled out an apology.

A hand made contact and tightened around his wrist. Branch instantly tugged to escape but damn, that grip was strong. Wide eyed, he turned to look at his captor.

Biggie was staring at him, eyebrows raised patiently. It was silent but radiated a painfully polite request, that even Branch couldn’t refuse. Reluctantly relaxing the hand muscles to make it easier for him, he allowed Biggie to pull his wrist away. “My God, Branch...” He murmured.

Branch nodded, resisting the urge to wince as Biggie tentatively touched the spread of purple bruises that had swelled along his temple. “How did you manage this?”

“Ran into a wall.” He lied.

“Mm hmm. How _many_ walls?”

_Well, shit. Biggie’s brighter than you give him credit for._

“Looks like he ran into seven walls, a glass door and a lamp post.” Cooper added casually.

“Branch, do you want to talk about… whatever it is?”

His arms knotted defensively across his chest. “There is no ‘whatever it is’, I’m just tired.”

“Tired enough to run into seven walls?” Biggie asked innocently.

Branch fixed him with a glare.

“Y’know,” Cooper propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm as he glanced between the two. “You should probably talk through shit with Biggs, Branch. He makes a pretty cool shrink.”

“I’m not a shrink, I’m just a-”

“He told me I’m great just the way I am.” Cooper informed Branch. “Even if I say the wrong stuff all the time. Listen to him. It’ll do ya good, bro.”

“I’m sure Biggie’s a fucking miracle worker but I don’t need it, alright? There’s nothing wrong. Tired and asshole-ish is just my default state. You guys can shut the Hell up now.”

Branch glanced up just in time to spot Cooper, _Cooper_ of all people, roll his eyes.

_I will fight them. I will fight both of them right now._

“Okay, Imma just,” Cooper stood to his full height, lean, lanky body shuffling out of the booth.

“You don’t have to leave.” Biggie spoke up. “Branch could probably use more than one friend right now.”

Cooper grinned, with a shake of his head. “Nah, this is your kinda thing, not mine. Imma go get the rent counter set up.” He stopped before Branch and with a click of his tongue, pointed down at his pizza. “Eat that.”

“I’m getting to it.” He said sharply.

“No, you ain’t. Eat, Branch. You look all sick and freaky looking.”

He grumbled out an incoherent response.

“Yeah, man. Now you’re getting it.” He held up an open palm. “High five!”

“I don’t do high fives.”

With an elegant swish of Cooper’s arm, Branch received a dead centre high five to the face. He gawked, as the taller boy gave a final smirk and wandered out of sight.

“He’s worried about you, he really is.” Biggie commented. “Cooper just has a strange way of reacting to things.”

“He just slapped me.” Branch said, hushed. Quite frankly, he was still shocked by this occurrence.

“Ahh, that was barely a slap. Cooper wouldn’t harm a fly.”

“I can’t believe you’re encouraging this violence. They told me you were the nice one.”

Biggie chuckled. “You don’t know yourself if I’m the nice one, Branch? We’ve been friends for years, haven’t we?”

“We _were_.” He muttered. “Until I became an ass. Dammit, Biggie. You know this story.”

“Hm, I still felt we were friends the whole time though.”

Branch couldn’t hold back a scoff. “Okay, now I know you’re fucking with me. Do your friends usually treat you the way I used to?”

“In fairness, you were quite passive as long as we left you alone.” Biggie argued.

“Yeah, but you were kids and you didn’t know how to leave other kids alone. I was the angry little dipshit, losing his goddamn mind every time someone tried to be his friend.”

“Well… I suppose we persisted because we missed you.”

Branch opened his mouth to retaliate but no words came to mind that didn’t sound dismissive of Biggie’s statement.

_Fucking marshmallow being so fucking earnest. Trying to eat here._

Wait, no, he wasn’t.

Glancing down at his pizza plate, Branch scooped a slice under his hand and took an obnoxiously big bite, out of pure spite. “Do you mind?” He asked, through bulging cheeks. “I’m trying to eat and you’re being weird and going to make me puke.”

Biggie chewed on a smile. “Sorry, Branch. Won’t do it again.”

“You better not.”

The light conversation faded and for a moment, they ate in comfortable silence.

“Would you like to talk about issue that troubling you now?”

“Shut up, Biggie.”

“Right, right.”

Another pause.

“So, how’s Poppy?” Biggie asked, tone conversational.

Branch’s jaw slacked, his insides shrivelling up at once. It was the first time he had heard her name spoken aloud since the argument, the first time the rest of the world acknowledged her, the first time he felt the urge to confess to what he did as another wave of guilt overwhelmed him.

But he didn’t. He held himself together to the best of his ability. “Fine.” He responded curtly, the pizza that hovered so close to his mouth growing farther away.

Biggie hummed, his soft gaze not scrutinizing but seemingly aware to an eerie extent. “Good to hear it. I haven’t heard from her in two days. She hasn’t texted me lately. What’s she up to right now, do you know?”

“I don’t. I don’t… know where she is.”

“Oh, well, that’s a bit odd…” Biggie said lightly. “How about you call her? Or text her, maybe? Just to tell her that I was asking for her.”

“Um.” Branch felt a slight hitch in his breath. “Now?”

He nodded.

“Uh, the thing about that is that… I-I can’t really-hey, wait!” He suddenly snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “ _You_ have a a phone! _You_ have her number! Why do you need _me_ to call her for you?”

“Well, I don’t.” Biggie shrugged. “I was just curious how comfortable you would be with calling her right now and… you seemed fairly hesitant there, Branch.”

“I just don’t want to talk to her.”

“Are you mad at her?”

“No!” Branch barked.

Biggie immediately understood. “So, it was you. Whatever happened, you’re blaming yourself for it.”

Branch spluttered out some mess of an objection but there was something about the certainty in Biggie’s eyes that brought his tangent to a standstill. Suddenly exhausted, he let his head collapse into his hands, running fingers through his greasy hair. “I hate you.” He eventually mumbled under his breath.

“No, you don’t.” Biggie said quietly, placing a hand on Branch’s back. “Do you?”

Without even thinking about it, Branch shook his head. “Sorry.”

He felt a reassuring pat. “So, I’m going to guess you and Poppy had some sort of argument, then?”

“A stupid one.”

“All arguments tend to have a bit of stupidity in them.”

Branch released a low groan. “I did it. It was me that acted stupid. I fucked it all up and she left the flat because of me.”

“Well,” There were now circles being drawn on the small of Branch’s back. “You can have a short temper, Branch and it _can_ negatively affect those around you sometimes. It’s something that you can work on, definitely, but I’d say that for now, the best thing you can do is to own up to what you did.”

“I’ve already fucking owned up, Biggie. I spent the whole fucking night owning up for it.”

“You mean wallowing in self-pity?”

“Like the pathetic piece of shit that I am, yeah.”

“That’s useless.” Biggie stated bluntly.

Branch snorted. “ _I’m_ useless.”

“No, you’re not. And that’s not what I mean. Branch, I’m going to be as nice as I can be about this but… moping around like you did last night, it’s no use to Poppy, in the slightest. I’m sure she feels bad about this argument too, that’s just the way she is, but… she should know that you regret it. When I say own up, I mean apologize.”

“You want me to ruin her day by rearing my ugly head again?” Branch droned, peering through the gap between his fingers. “Biggie, I doubt she’d want to talk to me.”

“You doubt it, do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“What do you mean ‘wow’” Branch looked up, having thoroughly had enough with Biggie’s vague phrasing.

He shrugged with an air of indifference. “Well, it’s just that… I would assume you’d know Poppy a little better by now.”

“I _do_ know her.” He replied, an edge of defence to his voice.

_Don’t fucking tell me I don’t know Poppy._

“Then you’d know she doesn’t hold grudges, wouldn’t you?”

Branch was just about ready to punch this stupid marshmallow in the face, just for continuously leaving him with nothing to say. Opening his mouth to spit out something, anything, he snapped it shut again. Odds are Biggie would have a rebuttal to whatever it was, anyway.

“I know you’re afraid to talk to her and I know you’re a little stuck in your own head right now but… Branch, look at me.”

His eyes had fixed themselves to the table again. Hesitantly, he raised his head to make eye contact. God, eye contact was difficult.

Biggie waited patiently until Branch’s snapping gaze focused before he spoke again. “You have a lot of things in your head that might tell you that she doesn’t like you. But you know Poppy, Branch. Somewhere, under all those cynical thoughts you have on your friendship, you know what she really thinks of you. Do you think Poppy hates you?”

A pause. A scratch of his arm. A dry throat. A shake of his head. “She doesn’t. She doesn’t hate people. She likes having me around, she likes talking to me. I don’t know why but-”

“Don’t think about why. Just think about what Poppy wants. What do you think she’d want you to do right now? Do you think she wants you to ignore her?”

The answer was silently and indefinitely screamed between them. Branch didn’t need to say a word. Slipping a hand into his pocket, his fingers clasped around the weight of his phone. For a second, he held it, drumming his fingers thoughtfully across the screen, until he pulled the device out.

Biggie’s shoulders relaxed and he took a bite of his own pizza, seeming content with the finishing result of their discussion.

Branch checked the time. “We have ten minutes left of break. I don’t know how long this will take but-”

Biggie cut him off with a kind clap to the shoulder. “Branch, I know Cooper and I are new here but we’re good at this. We’ll handle ourselves just fine. Take as much time as you need.”

With a definite nod, Branch stood and hovered uncertainly above the sitting Biggie. With a tight-lipped smile, he briefly considered how to end this and ultimately decided on an awkward pat against Biggie’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

“I appreciate the effort, Branch.” He smiled warmly. “But I know you’re very uncomfortable right now. Just go call Poppy.”

“Right, right, yeah, I’ll just-um-” Branch wisely cut himself off before he said anything too stupid, turning on his heel and bumping into Cooper in his haste.

“Woah there, friend!” He seized Branch’s forearms before he collided too roughly with the taller boy’s chest. After a moment of scanning his expression, Cooper raised a questioning eyebrow but not a word was spoken.

Branch nodded with a weak attempt at a grin, shooting him a thumbs up as he broke away, only the slightest scowl crossing his features as Cooper cheerfully ruffled his hair.

He was already locating her name in his most recent calls as he leaned forward, his elbows pressed against the metal bar of the roller rink. While it at first hesitated, his thumb jabbed her contact.

_Calling: Poppy_

* * *

They should have chosen a different spot to meet.

Poppy was restless, cowbell dangling in her right hand as she paced up and down Bergen Town Bridge, an anxious skip to her step.

This is where she kissed Creek for the first time, so it was understandable that he would request to meet here. But there were things that Creek didn’t know, things that Poppy would never, ever have the heart to tell him.

Everything about Bergen Town Bridge, the bench, the stone wall, the rushing water, the cheerfully quacking ducks, all lingered with the memory of Branch.

She thought, with a hint of bubbly amusement, that Branch had been right. The warmth of his breath against her cheek, had been done to hopefully fill the uncomfortable memories with something new, something unrelated to Creek. That was what Branch had intended and it worked like a charm.

Bergen Town Bridge was Branch and Poppy’s now and no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t find Creek a spot here.

And yet, here they were. Well, here _she_ was. Creek had yet to arrive.

Every couple of minutes, Poppy would laugh to herself at the persistent quacking of the ducks and peering over the bridge, she watched them, his voice clearly asking her to ‘Look at the goddamn ducks’ so she did, subconsciously hoping that something sweet would happen.

Nothing sweet happened. Because the one to do the sweet things, was not currently here. It was… a shame.

The one who did sweet things was probably pretty pissed off at Poppy right now. Wasn’t ‘Fuck you.’ one of the last things she said to him?

Guilt was gnawing relentlessly at every inch of her heart. Branch was nice. Branch was so, so _nice_ and Poppy had just decided to go and…

She sighed, running a hand over her pocket, feeling the rectangular bump of a phone. Branch was at work, she really shouldn’t bother him.

_Shouldn’t bother him? Have you forgotten who you are?_

A small giggle escaped, tongue pressed between her teeth. That was true. If anyone in this world had made it their sole mission in life to bother Branch every waking minute of the day, it would have to be Poppy. She knew his day just wouldn’t be the same without it.

Damn, how was his day going right now? She hadn’t spoken to him since last night.

The act of contemplating whether or not she would call him, was not done very thoroughly. Poppy was just about to balance out the downsides of speaking to Branch right now, when her hand had already decided to fish her phone out, her eyes working against her to scan the screen for Branch’s name.

_This is the part where Smidge says YOLO_

Yeah, she wanted to call him. Creek would be showing up soon and the last thing Poppy wanted to have investing her mind were thoughts of Branch, while she was out with Creek. Especially considering what she was supposed to do concerning Creek.

She pressed his name.

_Calling: Branch_

Poppy steadied herself, one hand holding the phone to her ear, the other settling over the bridge. No matter how well this conversation went down, at least she could look at the ducks.

They peered up at her expectantly and Poppy liked to believe they remembered her. Or remembered her popcorn, at least. Well, that was fine. Even if they were quacking at her for food, she was just going to pretend they were cheering her on. She gave them a thumbs up.

And then, a dial tone that Poppy had never heard before. Confused, she hung up before re-calling.

He answered within seconds, his greeting in the form slightly startled sounding “Hello?”

Poppy blinked, opening her mouth before realizing she wasn’t sure how to begin this. “Hello…” Well, when in doubt, joke. She cleared her throat. “Yes, hello. I’m looking for aaaa….. oh, what’s his name. A Mister Branch? First name-”

“Do not.” He cut through, the breath she heard through his nose, hinting at a smile. “Do not. Say. My first name. I will deck you, I swear to God.”

“Over the phone, bud?” Poppy quipped. “Damn, almost wanna say it now just so you can demonstrate how that would work.”

“Spite is a powerful thing, Poppy. Don’t test me, I’ll find you. I don’t even know where you are but I’ll hunt you down and I’ll…”

“Deck me? That a thing you got in ya to do, Branch?”

“… I will complain excessively.”

She chuckled. “But hey, I’m glad you asked where I am. It’s a place that might be of interest to you.”

“Area 51?”

“Bergen Town Bridge.”

Popcorn, ducks, cheek kisses, awkward hugs and piggyback rides home. Every treasured little moment flashed in Poppy’s memory as she leaned forward waiting for Branch to respond. She liked to imagine, that at that moment, he remembered it all too.

“Oh… yeah. The bridge. I remember the bridge.” His voice came across as somewhat strained to hold itself together.

Well, okay. Maybe he just needed a little poke. Poppy obliged. “Yep, nice place. Real pretty scenery. I’m looking at the ducks right now, they keep quacking up at me and I’m pretty sure they want-”

“I’m sorry,” Branch blurted out. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. That’s what we’re trying not to talk about, right? Well, I need to say sorry ‘cause I fucked up and I know I fucked up and-”

“Branch, Branch, my man, calm down!” Poppy rose her voice to be heard over his apology. “ _I’m_ sorry. Like, it was me that was having the bad day and I kept trying to get answers out of you even though you really didn’t want to and I got mad-”

“ _I_ was mad to begin with. I was a whiny pissbaby and I took it out on you-”

“ _I_ took it out on you and I shouldn’t have gotten all snappy like I did-”

“You were just trying to deal with the bullshit that I was putting you through-”

“Hey, buddy, you put up with some bullshit too.”

“Yeah, but I-”

“Branch.”

He exhaled lowly. “What?”

“Can you forgive me?”

“Well, yeah. Poppy, it was me that-”

“Good.” She chirped. “I’m glad you could find it in your heart. I forgive you too.”

“You sure?” A sceptical mumble.

Poppy nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see it. “Yep, we’re good now, Branch. I forgive you and you forgive me. Look at us, being all grown up and talking it over and stuff, I’m proud of us.”

“Grown up?” Branch asked incredulously. “Poppy, we have a toy dolphin that you seem totally sure is our actual daughter!”

“You leave Spongey out of this! We’ve adopted and taken responsibility for a beautiful and wonderful child and damn it, Branch, if that’s not mature, I dunno what is.”

“My boss caught me yelling at the claw machine and asked if I had an addiction.”

“You were retrieving our child and I’m proud of you.”

Branch snorted.

Gazing down, smile softened by a bobbing duck’s tail feathers and wriggling webbed feet, Poppy sighed. “Really though, I have been feeling a lot like a kid lately.”

“You’ve been like a kid since you _were_ a kid.”

“Yeah but different like-” She swallowed. “I miss my Dad, Branch. I know it’s only been a couple of days but… it’s been a looooooong couple of days. I just wanna hug him right now. Is that a little kid thing to say? I don’t care, I miss him.”

“You should go see him again.” Branch suggested. “The next weekend you’re free. He misses you all the time, anyway.”

“I might just do that.” She felt warm at the thought of another Dad hug in the future. “Wanna come with me, bud?”

“Um, I-I should probably stop butting into your family time.”

“Branch, he’s already adopted you. Like, he’s probably be just as excited to see you!”

“When did he-?”

“You’re his son now, just,” Poppy shook her head. “Just don’t question it, alright? So, you gonna come with me? We can play more monopoly and you can play with Fuuuuuuuuzbeeeert.”

Branch released a long, suffering sigh. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Okay, fine. I’ll come.”

“Perfect!” Poppy felt herself laugh as a thought occurred to her.

“What?”

She sniggered. “Different beds this time?”

Okay, was that a good idea? Should she have thought before saying that? She would like to believe that making it a joke smoothed the tension over considerably but damn, it would all depend on her results. To be perfectly honest, Poppy was in the mood to talk about it right now and fidgeting lightly with her cowbell, felt she couldn’t have that much to lose.

Branch made a very distinct sound, that Poppy would describe as, what one swallowing their own tongue, would sound like. Once she was led to believe that he hadn’t died, he rushed into a disjointed babble of an answer. “U-um, yeah, yeah. Th-that’s-that’s not going to happen again, I promise. Like, I-I really promised. That won’t happen, I won’t be a creep, I’ll sleep on the floor, I’ll just-”

“Heeeeey, buddy.” Poppy soothed. “I dunno if you were being a creep. You couldn’t help fallin’ asleep, could ya?”

“You sleep when you relax, Poppy. It’s a thing you have control over and I just-”

“I fell asleep too.” She shrugged, feeling only the slightest bit nervous. No going back now, she had opened up the conversation. “Even though I knew you were in the bed. Nodded off by accident. It, uh, it just happens,”

Branch said nothing. She could imagine that familiar mix of a grimace and scowl, when someone other than him had won an argument. Usually Poppy.

“Hey, Branch. Guess what?”

“Hm?” He grunted out a response.

“We’re having the talk. We’re talking about when we slept in the same bed. It’s out in the open now. We’re talking about it. Isn’t that great?”

A groan.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say we slept together.”

His voice raised an octave “We didn’t sleep-!”

“Say we slept in the same bed together!” Poppy loudly corrected.

“Why?!”

“Because it feels good to openly acknowledge things we feel weird about and not just awkwardly skirt around them. I was doing it, Branch! I didn’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t. Tell me you weren’t doing the same thing.”

“Fine. Yeah, okay. I was doing that, alright?”

“So, say it.”

Another exasperated sigh. Or embarrassed. It was hard to tell over the phone. “We slept in the same bed together.” He muttered.

“And now, we’re closer than ever!” Poppy added cheerfully. “Right?”

“I hate this discussion.”

Poppy scoffed. “Awww, you never wanna talk about our friendship in depth, do ya? What would you prefer to talk about? Your body heat?”

_Wait, shit, no. You’re pushing how far you can go with this bed thing._

“My fucking what now?!” Branch practically squeaked.

_Ya dun did it. Now, you gotta roll with it._

In hindsight, if she had kept her mind off his body heat for the time being, she wouldn’t have automatically mentioned it.

Poppy forced out a chuckle. “I mean, yeaaaaah.” If she talked her usual nonsense, she may be able to drive this in a sillier direction. “Like when we were sleeping and all, you were warm as heck, my man. Like radiator kind of hot-I mean, warm. Just, wow, buddy. Do you just devour red peppers by the dozen every day? What the heck is that all about?”

A relieving sound muffled through the receiver. Branch had snorted. “Do you really think I’m capable of eating that many red peppers?”

“Only one way to find out!”

“ _No_.”

Poppy pouted. “You are a man who does not know how to have fun.”

“You are a woman who is trying to kill a man.”

“What a way to go though.” She whispered, awed at the concept.

“Don’t try it. I will personally call your Dad to inform him that you still need adult supervision.”

“I do not!” Poppy snapped, affronted.

“Listen, the day I stop having to pick rainbow sprinkles out of my dinners, is the day I will believe that.”

She made a throaty sound of the deepest offense but from the chuckle at the other end of the line, she imagined it didn’t sound nearly as intimidating as she would have liked. Judging from the reaction, the sound was pretty comical.

Within seconds, the chuckle dissolved into a snicker before raising in volume to a full, clear laugh. Her irritation evaporating like salt, Poppy smiled. Resting her weight on the wall, she used her free hand to cup her cheek as she listened.

Branch laughed now. It wasn’t the first time and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. But this new development had been recent. Bergen Town Recent. Living Together Recent. Branch and Poppy Calling Each Other Friends Recent.

However, it wasn’t the laugh that got to her, but the fact that Branch had reached the point where he could laugh freely now. It didn’t happen often but when it did, he was sincere. Whoever he was, he had become very different from the old grump from Troll Town. He had changed… a little? A lot? It all depended on how you looked at him from the start. Personally, Poppy only found a little change in him. Everything he had, was always there, that person just needed to be tugged into the open, is all.

Well, here was that person, still making blunders, still working himself out but getting better and better every day to become the greatest Branch he could possibly be. Poppy had no idea how she overlooked it for so long, but she saw it now. Poppy absolutely adored Branch. For everything he was and for everything he tried to do.

_Open your heart,_

“Wow. I really love you.” She thought aloud.

The river didn’t stop, the ducks still quacked, passing Bergens still chatted noisily and unaffected. Nothing slowed down but for Poppy, it felt like the entire world had frozen.

Branch was silent, anyway and that was just as important as the entire world.

She wanted to backtrack.

But she also didn’t.

Creek would be here soon.

This was it.

“I don’t mean platonically, by the way.” Poppy uttered, trying to keep her voice even. “Or like… like the family way. Like-like I do love you like that too but… I mean…. Like the ‘kiss you’ kinda way.”

The only thing that gave away that he was still there, was his ragged breathing.

_Unlock your soul,_

“You’re amazing.” She hurried to continue. “I-I didn’t just decide that I loved you without a reason to, just so-so ya know. Like, Branch, buddy, you’re sweet. Like possibly one of the sweetest people I know. I mean, it’s hard for other people to tell sometimes but-but…. once it’s there, you can’t deny it. You’re good. You really are good and you’ve been good the whole time. You’ve helped me so much and I know, _I know_ I still keep getting it wrong and fucking things up but… thank you.”

Poppy released a shaking sigh, not knowing if she should bring this to a halt or not.

Fuck it, she would keep going until she ran out of words. Poppy could babble like there was no tomorrow.

“You’re funny too. Like you’re really funny, which is weird ‘cause like, when you act funny, it’s a lot different than when I act funny and I don’t know why I laugh but…” She shrugged. “It works, I guess.”

“Oh, oh and you’re smart. You’re really, really smart, Branch. Like, I don’t think I’m that dumb or anything but…. I-I’ve said this before that one time you cried but…. I need you around. When you’re not around, it just feels like everything is fake and not right and I had no idea that would happen if you weren’t around but it did and just… I love having you, just, in general. I love you just being there. Being anywhere, really, just…you! I love you!”

_Tell him the truth before you’re too old._

Poppy sobered herself, unaware as to when her entire body had begun to rack with the shakes or how she even felt like she had just run a marathon. Her heart was going to break a hole in her chest if it kept beating at this rate.

“I’m giving Creek my cowbell, Branch.” She stated, with an attempted air of calm. “I won’t be… mentioning what I said ever again, I promise. I just… I really needed to say something. I wanted to know what you thought of it. You-you can be mad if you want. You can be weirded out. You can just not care. I’m not gonna hold none of it against you, I just really, really wanna know what you think. Of me. And me, feeling…. this. Like, how I love you and all.”

The unsteady breathing had not subsided and with a voice, that sounded as though Branch had almost suffocated, he managed a whispered “Oh…”

“Oh?” She smiled through gritted teeth. “A-anything? Ya got anything more than that? Just a little more maybe?”

He said nothing else.

“Branch, I-I’m begging ya here. Please, please just say something to me.”

A clatter from the other end.

Her eyes widened in curiosity, despite her rapidly knotting nerves. “Branch? Are- are you-?”

Branch hung up.

The ducks continued to quack, the world continued to spin but yet again, it felt like the exact opposite to her.

Poppy laughed, a laugh that tasted sour on her tongue as she added a few more thoughts to the one-sided conversation. “Well, alrighty then, buddy, friend, Branch, my man, my very platonic man. Good-” She swallowed. “Good talking to ya. Nice to talk things through, isn’t it?”

“It really is.” Said a smooth voice from behind her.

Poppy turned to face Creek and he smiled in greeting.

He began to talk about the nice shift in the weather.

He informed her she looked nice today.

He brought up the progress he had made on the drafted menus.

To be perfectly honest, Poppy was having a hard time paying attention to any of it. She wanted it to stop.

Her cowbell jangled as she, without a word, shoved it in front of him. Hopefully it would content him enough to stop rambling about things she couldn’t pay attention to.

He asked something and she really didn’t acknowledge what, but nodded anyway.

_Just take the stupid bell._

Creek snatched it out of her grip, a gleam in his eye as he cradled the instrument in his arm and turning his head back towards her, she was enveloped.

Poppy stood in the middle of Bergen Town Bridge, hugged by an absolutely ecstatic boy who she had silently proclaimed her artificial love for, all while her mind swam with the image of a grumpy kid, who worked at Captain Starfunkle’s roller rink, his expression ambiguous as a girl on the phone, told him something he probably didn’t want to hear.

She wanted to see the Brightside of this. There probably was one. But there were a lot of not-so Brightsides too. After all, the possibilities of what a solidary ‘Oh’ meant, were positively endless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Theeeeeeere they are](https://marmarbaxter.tumblr.com/post/160283192656)
> 
> [PONYTAIL](http://planetary-rings.tumblr.com/post/160266043872)
> 
> [Theeeeeere they are again](http://planetary-rings.tumblr.com/post/160231040402)
> 
> [Just a boy and his stickynotes](http://azahlea-valonir.tumblr.com/post/160140550482)
> 
> [AND AGAIN THERE THEY ARE](https://nickki-d-k.tumblr.com/post/159995527565)
> 
> [Goblin boi](https://nickki-d-k.tumblr.com/post/159960072245)
> 
> [A whole bunch of stuff](http://secretsivekept.tumblr.com/post/159873980608)
> 
> [THIS UPSETS ME](https://freezy-is-gay.tumblr.com/post/159859087666)
> 
> [Some v good v early chapter content](https://anyalove16.tumblr.com/post/159766336339)
> 
> [SCRUFF](https://nickki-d-k.tumblr.com/post/159720188815)
> 
> [More early chapter stuff](https://anyalove16.tumblr.com/post/159731709624)
> 
> [and it was all a dreeeeeeaaaaam](https://freezy-is-gay.tumblr.com/post/159601971301)
> 
> [These fucks](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/159588624103)


	18. Chapter 18

Gristle never had much difficulty in obtaining things. Since he was a child, his life, practically his entire world was given to him in Dad’s large hands. Desensitized to constantly receiving, he took little notice of what he had. He took happiness for granted. He took people for granted.

But it was different nowadays. Gristle’s first loss had not been a treat he had been denied or a toy he had misplaced. His first loss had been his father. And good God, the months that followed the passing were something grim.

But ever since then, anything, _anyone_ that Gristle had in his life, he held dear to his heart. (Even if they weren’t nearly as affectionate in return.)

Bridget was someone that he took the time to stop and appreciate. Bright eyed, round cheeked, soft spoken Bridget. A girl whose very essence reminded him of wintery nights in his parents’ living room, accompanied by a rich, crackling fire and a fluffy, yellow blanket.

She radiated warmth, from both a literal and metaphorical sense. Her little smile was uncertain, but loving nonetheless.

Gristle had never expected this person. Not from the Lady Glitter Sparkles persona that he thought he knew. She was something else entirely. But damn, was Gristle delighted to meet the girl who was nestled underneath the rainbow wig all this time. She was truly fantastic.

He blinked, slightly startled as the sitcom they were watching, blared another raucous round of canned laughter. Quite frankly, Gristle wasn’t paying attention.

Bridget was sitting hunched over and cross-legged on the couch, chewing absentmindedly at the tip of her pizza slice, thoroughly engulfed in the happenings on TV.

Gristle chuckled, feeling a rush of endearment at just the sight of her and instinctively leaned forward, pressing a peck against her cheek.

She stiffened, jerking her pizza out of his reach, a sharp hiss resounding from her throat.

He shot backwards immediately.

After a brief pause, Bridget’s eyes widened, her lips parting in a silent “Ohhh...”

“I was just-I-I was going to…” Gristle trailed off, cautiously gesturing between his mouth and her face.

Bridget nodded hurriedly. “Yeah, yeah, um, you were… a kiss! You just wanted to kiss, right?”

“That was… the idea, yeah…”

“That’s um… oh…” Her expression melted into a warm smile. “That’s really sweet, I guess. C’mere.”

They shuffled nearer and met halfway, settling into the middle couch cushion. Bridget’s hand crept around the back of his head, lightly pulling him inwards and for a moment, they breathed in the sight of each other, content with just loving gazes until their lips attached. This moment would have been highly romantic in Gristle’s opinion if his goddamn phone could have just shut its goddamn...uh… phone mouth!

He broke apart from the exchange with a frustrated sigh, fishing the ringing device out of his pocket.

“Are you gonna answer it?” Bridget inquired, wiping a lock of hair from over her eye.

“We’re on a date.” Gristle answered briskly, with a grimace at his phone. “All of my attention should be on you today. I can’t-I-I can’t just-”

“Who is it?”

He stopped, glancing down at the contact name. Gristle tried to keep the pleading out of his expression, until his lip gave an involuntary twitch and he cracked. “It’s Biggiiiieeeee!” He whined. “That guy I hung out with Saturday night. Remember? He told me all about his cat and-”

“Yeah, you talked a ton about Barnabas.” Bridget recalled, smiling fondly. “But I know you guys are pretty good friends now. You can answer him if you want, sweetie.”

Gristle’s eyes snapped uncertainly between his phone and his girlfriend. “N-now, Bridget, listen. I don’t want you to think that I’d rather talk to my new buddy over you, okay, honey? I love both you and Biggie and I-”

“Okay, yeah, that’s great. I love you too but…” She tapped an urgent finger against the phone screen. “Just answer it already.”

“Oh-oh, right, right!” Gristle had almost forgotten the answering part, in his haste to assure Bridget that she was not being overshadowed. Swiping green, he jabbed the little speaker circle and attempted a firm tightening of his brow. “Biggie.” He said sternly, placing a hand on his hip.

“Hello, Gristle!” The pleasantly quaint voice greeted through the receiver. “I hope you don’t mind but I was just calling to-”

“Biggie.” Gristle repeated, clearing his throat in an effort to keep himself composed. “I happen to be at my lady love, Bridget’s home right now. We are spending quality time together. Now, you are on speaker, Biggie, because I do not care how much you wish to speak to me, anything you can say to me, you can say to Bridget too.”

“Awww...” She cooed, her head tilting in admiration. “You’re so considerate…”

“Err… yes, alright, that’s fine. Hello, Bridget, how are you?”

“Hi there, um…” Bridget automatically raised a hand to wave before awkwardly lowering upon realizing the issue. “Oh, I’m good.” She shrugged. “My boss tried to throw a wooden spoon at me today but I ducked so I can’t really complain much. How, uh, how are you?”

“Fine, fine.” Biggie said airily. “Um anyway, the reason I’m calling you is… err… you two are good friends with Branch, aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah, totally!” Gristle said cheerily. “Me and Branch are best buddies at this point. We’re practically brothers!”

“Really?” Bridget raised a sceptical brow. “I feel like we’re more acquaintances than anything…”

He scoffed. “Sweetie, we know who he’s in love with. You don’t get any closer than that!”

There was a silence. Then, the pin dropped.

_Oh shit, not again._

Gristle leaned in very close to the phone. “Hey, Biggie….” He said slowly. “Biggs, Buddy, friend, pal.”

“Yes, Gristle?” Biggie replied, equally as slow.

“Do you wanna pretend you didn’t hear that? This is kinda the second time I blurted out something I wasn’t supposed to about Branch…”

They could practically envision Biggie opening and shutting his mouth before he responded. “Of course, Gristle. None of my business. But… I would like you to do something for me.”

“Shoot.”

“Alright so, um. I’m at work right now. I’ve actually gotten a job at the arcade with Branch and Cooper and well, today, Branch, he... he…”

“Is he okay?” Bridget asked.

“I-I’m not sure. That’s what I wanted to ask you two about. So, you see, Branch wasn’t really in the best shape today. He showed up to work looking exhausted, he barely ate, he was surlier than usual and-”

“Maybe he was sick?” Gristle offered.

“Whatever he was, he wasn’t healthy. I did manage to get some kind of answer out of him eventually. He had gotten into a disagreement with Poppy the night before, so I talked him into calling and apologizing to her. So, he did and, well…” Biggie sighed. “I-I don’t know what it is that happened but I went over because I saw him panicking. He dropped his phone and then he nearly toppled over. His knees looked like they were about to cave in. Like he’d seen a ghost or something.”

The couple glanced at each other, with identical looks of bafflement.

“Sooo…” Bridget thoughtfully spun a strand of hair around her forefinger. “Did he say anything? About the phone call?”

“Not a thing. I tried asking him about it and he just kept shaking his head. Fairly forcefully too. I was actually afraid to keep going, in case he gave himself brain damage or something. I’ve never seen Branch so out of it, in my life. Like he wasn’t even on the same planet.”

“So, what did you guys do about him?”

“We-we couldn’t get any answers out of him. I don’t even think he was functioning properly. The manager had to send him home.”

Gristle whistled lowly. “Damn, my bro Branch straight up malfunctioned.”

“Yes, well… what I wanted to ask was… do you think either of you would be able to get through to him? I’ve tried both calling and texting him just to see if he’s alright and he hasn’t picked up. I was hoping that maybe if you were friends, he’d see your name on caller ID and maybe he’d-”

“Yeaaaaahhh, not likely. I mean, me and Branch are bros and even though we text all the time, he doesn’t y’know…. respond to the texts I send him. Pretty sure, he’s more of a reading them and forgetting kind of guy. Shows his love in different ways, I guess.” Gristle shrugged. “I just need to figure out what those ways are…” He finished in a mumble.

“He showed his love a ton of times, honey. Remember when he helped me be Lady Glitter Sparkles?” Bridget softly pointed out, fingers fidgeting in her lap. “A-and if he didn’t do that, I might not have been able to keep talking to you at all...we-we could have…”

“We could have just… not spoken again.” Gristle continued her train of thought, his expression clearing in realization. “After that first date that didn’t go so well at the start. He helped you out, didn’t he…? Man…. do you-do you think-?” He glanced up to meet Bridget’s eyes. “You think we’d even be dating without him?”

There was a solitary moment where both of them let the worst-case scenarios cloud their minds. Honestly, the very thought of not having Bridget, was enough to devastate Gristle.

His hand dragged across the couch, subconsciously seeking comfort. It brushed against Bridget’s, which had also slid nearer and they met in the middle. The two hands found each other and Gristle squeezed, holding her gaze as he managed a smile. She smiled in return.

Another very romantic moment, so carelessly disrupted.

“Um, hello…? Gristle…? Are-are you still-?”

“I’m still here, Biggie.” He said dryly, adjusting himself into a comfortable position, holding Bridget’s hand in his lap.

“Oh, alright, um. If you can’t reach Branch, that’s fine. I was just wondering but-”

“No.” Bridget stated. Her tone was simple, soft but definite.

It took nothing but an understanding glance between them before Gristle nodded.

“Yeah, Biggie. I gotta agree with my lady love on this one.”

“Err… what did she say exactly?”

“We’re gonna do what we can to help Branch, so don’t you worry about it.” Gristle grinned.

“He helped us after all.” Bridget added.

“That he did. So, yeah, Biggs, one more question. Do you happen to know Branch’s address?”

* * *

“How long has she been under there?”

“I dunno, since I got home? I tried getting her to come out with some cookies but she hasn’t been biting.”

“She’s not a dog, Suki. You can’t just bribe her out with treats.”

“Dude, it’s _Poppy_. I see no reason why treats wouldn’t work.”

Poppy rolled on to her side, her cheek scratching uncomfortably against Suki’s carpet. The gap between the bed and the floor, allowed her to view two pairs of designer heels and a scruffy set of sneakers.

“Hey, Poppy? Honey?” Came Chenille’s voice, tone like velveteen.

“Mmmm…” She groaned in response, circling the floor with her fingertip.

“Why are you under the bed?”

“I don’t wanna be a bother to Suki or nothin’ but I got nowhere else to go so I’m gonna just live under here now.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

“Aaaaaand what happened to your own apartment?” Satin joined in, crouching slightly and pressing her jewellery clad hands against her knees.

Poppy made a sharp declining noise, feeling the sudden urge to curl in on herself. “Can’t go back there.” She said quickly, shaking her head. “Branch is there.”

“What did Branch do?” Satin asked patiently, but with an underlining edge to her words.

“Nothing.” She murmured pitifully. He really didn’t do anything, did he? He just stood there and listened as Poppy lit a torch and burned their comfortable friendship alive. How the Hell was she supposed to even look at him now?

Poppy squeezed her eyes shut, in a failed attempt to block out the very idea of speaking to Branch again. But it persisted, stubborn little thought that it was.

Chenille gave a tight hum, her bracelets rattling. Poppy could practically see her arms fold in distaste. “Sounds like he did _something_.”

“Dude, is this about the fight you had with him last night?”

“Nah, I called him. Talked it over and we said sorry for the fight. But then we… we…um…” She trailed off, internally debating whether she should even go into this. The girls were supposed to have a fun sleepover tonight. Would it really be her place to bring down the mood? _Again?_ God, it felt like she had been doing that a lot lately.

“Soooo, I’m guessing Branch said something over the phone? Something that got you all upset? That’s what happened right? You telling me we gotta beat up Branch now?”

Suki’s sneakers turned on the heel and shuffled towards the doorway. “Hey, Smidge! Get in here, I think we gotta beat-h-hey! What the fuck did I say? Get out of my fridge!”

“I’m hungry, leave me alone!” Smidge yelled back. “Wait, who are we beating?”

“Just get in here!” Smidge’s shoes slapped down the hallway, and with the sound of rustling plastic, a pair of pretty pink flats, joined the others.

“Who said you could have those?” Suki sounded irritable. “I told you like a million times to stay out of my fridge.”

“I got these in your cupboard though.” Was Smidge’s reply, voice muffled through an obviously full mouth. “Now, who are we beating?”

“Apparently, Bra-”

“Not Branch.” Poppy cut through with an exasperated sigh. “Nobody’s beating up Branch. It’s just that-” She paused. For a moment, Poppy drummed her fingers thoughtfully against the floor, before deciding that whatever she said in his defence, wouldn’t be so effective coming from under the bed.

Her arms emerged and dragged the rest of her body out, and she rose clumsily with the aid of the twins grabbing both her elbows. Poppy dusted herself off, shaking out her stiffened legs. “Okie Dokie, soo uh… Branch didn’t do anything. Let’s just establish that first.”

Three pairs of tense shoulders dropped, each breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Good. I was hoping he wasn’t a bad guy.” Chenille smiled.

“Really didn’t want to beat him up, honestly” Shrugged Suki.

“I’ve been working on a blazer that I was going to give him on his birthday and I was thinking, it’d be pretty awkward if we just-”

Satin was cut off by a very blunt “Wait” from Smidge. The girl in question, was rummaging her hand inside a bag of Doritos. “You’re saying I _don’t_ get to fight Branch?”

Poppy shook her head.

Smidge grunted in disappointment, her bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

“What do you have against Branch?” Suki asked, placing a hand on her hip.

“Nothing,” Smidge replied, looking up with raised eyebrows and a light shake of her head. “I think he’s cool. He arm-wrestled with me on Saturday and didn’t give up when I kept winning. Usually you guys give up after round three.”

“Can you blame us? You’re kinda unbeatable.”

“Yeah, but Branch kept going.” Smidge dropped down on Suki’s bed and made herself comfortable on top of the pillow. “Figured he’d be fun to fight.”

Poppy followed suit, plopping down opposite Smidge and within a matter of seconds, all five technicoloured haired girls were circled on the bed.

“So,” Satin gently bumped her arm against Poppy’s. “You wanna tell us what happened that got you hiding under the bed?”

“I wasn’t _hiding_ under the bed.”

“Right.” Chenille said dryly, leaning sideways to press shoulders with Suki. “You were just planning on living there forever. But not hiding.”

“Exactly. Thank you for understanding, Chenille.”

Chenille rolled her eyes. “Alright, so, what’s the problem? Something going on with Branch, right?”

“Y’know, it’s…. it’s uh, well…” Poppy’s fingers closed around Suki’s sheet, fidgeting anxiously against the fabric. “I might have said something I shouldn’t have said. To Branch. And um, he-he hung up. He just…. he hung up without saying anything. A-and I guess I got a liiiiiiittle bit worried that he might be… y’know… weirded out by what I said.”

“Well, what did you say?”

“If she told him she loved him or something, I’m leaving.” Smidge commented casually, looking more interested in the contents of her Dorito bag than anything going on around her.

Suki scoffed and extended a hand to pat Smidge’s head. “Aww, Smidgeon. How many Rom-Coms have you watched this week?”

“Too damn much.” She grumbled. “And it happens all the fucking time. Two kids can’t move in together without growing some kind of weird ass sexual tension. I’ve seen it to death!”

“Yeah, but that’s all it is. Rom-Coms. They’re not real.” Shrugged Satin.

“Yeah, not everyone in real life is going to fall for their roommate.” Chenille agreed. “Plus, Poppy already has a boyfriend, she’s not going to just-” She paused, catching the look on Poppy’s face.

She was smiling. But not the familiar bubbly grin that her friends had grown accustomed to. Wide eyes wilder than usual, her lips rigid and strained as they held their upward position. Placed in her lap were both hands, which clasped together so tightly, her knuckles were discolouring.

The two sisters shared a glance. Both their faces shifted into a variety of expressions as they seemed to discuss the situation in total silence.

Suki could only snap her head between all three of them, thoroughly confused.

Smidge paid little attention and tipped the remnants of her Doritos bag, into her mouth.

Finally, the twins settled on a conclusion and turned to address their friend again.

“Poppy?” Satin asked gently.

Poppy said nothing. Her bottom lip disappeared, only to be gnawed in agitation.

“Did you tell Branch you loved him, Poppy?”

No movement whatsoever for several seconds. And then, a very, very tiny nod.

Poppy could feel the information heavily settle on the shoulders of everyone present. She wasn’t entirely sure if she regretted this or not. But then again, she had never been good at keeping secrets.

Suki turned expectantly to Smidge.

Smidge didn’t move.

“Huh.” It was Chenille who spoke first. “I-I mean, we picked up that was probably the case from your face but… wow. You fell for Branch.”

“Branch.” Satin repeated, just as incredulously. “It’s-um… it’s unexpected anyway.”

“Saw it coming.” Shrugged Smidge. “What did I tell you guys? Happens all the time.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda weird buuut…” Suki leaned back, her palms pressed against the mattress. “It’s not _that_ surprising when you think about it. Branch really isn’t that bad.”

“Never said he was bad.” Satin was quick to shake her head. “He really isn’t. As I said, it’s just… unexpected. Branch and Poppy are, well… different. It’s just that-”

“All couples are different though.”

“We’re not a couple, Suki.” Poppy said quietly.

“No, but maybe you will be someday-ow! What?!”

Suki turned to Chenille, who had lightly thumped her forearm.

“You can’t just assume they’re going to hook up someday. We don’t know if Branch feels the same way about Poppy.”

“Why wouldn’t he? Poppy’s great!”

“Yeah but he’s Branch.” Satin added to her sister’s argument. “And really, has he ever actually liked someone in his life?”

“We don’t know for sure. Poppy maybe?” Suki tried. Receiving some exasperated looks from the twins, she rolled her eyes. “Y’know, you two can be negative about this all you want but I personally believe-”

“We’re not being negative!” Chenille snapped. “We’re just trying to think realistically here.”

“Well, so am I! And I think it’s pretty damn realistic that Branch loves her too. I got a good feeling about this, okay?”

Satin sighed. “You’re just going to get her hopes up.”

“Well, better to get them up than crush her hopes entirely!”

“That’s not what we’re doing!”

“It is!”

“Hello.” Smidge said bluntly, waving a hand between the three of them. After grasping their attention, she gestured to Poppy, who was sitting stiffly and looking on in a desperate attempt to keep track of the argument. “Remember her? She’s still here.”

“Oh God,” Satin murmured, scooching closer to pull an arm around Poppy. “Sorry about this, Pops. We’re just… kind of shocked.”

“It’s fine… it’s-it’s all fine and good….” Poppy assured them, ignoring whatever nerves were squirming around in her stomach because of this conversation alone. “B-but…um…” She looked up, making direct eye contact with Suki. “You think… you actually think he loves me too?”

She nodded sincerely, intentionally keeping her eyes off the twins.

Poppy opened her mouth disbelievingly and managed a cracked “Why?”

“Suki doesn’t always have facts to back up what she believes in.” Chenille shrugged. “Sometimes, she just feels things.”

“Yeah, maybe I do but damn, guys. It’s possible.” Suki threw her hands up in her own defence. “And I’m pretty sure its likelier than you two give it credit for. I mean, how fucking shocked were we on Saturday when Branch turned out to be a pretty decent dude?”

“We knew he wasn’t a bad person.”

“Just kind of bad tempered.”

“Yeah, but surprise, surprise, turns out there was more to him than that. Like, way more to him than we were expecting.” Suki paused, looking between the twins as if waiting for them to interrupt her. At the silence she received, she continued. “Branch has surprises spilling out his ears for God’s sake. Would him loving Poppy really be that shocking at this this point? Give the guy a chance! He can have emotions, y’know.”

Despite the less than stellar mood dulling her mind, a slight giggle slipped from Poppy’s lips. “Oh, he’s got emotions. He’s got a ton of them.”

_He has grown sentimentally attached to a plush dolphin, you cannot deny the man has emotions._

“I guess it’s possible…” Chenille mused, once again raising her arms to be folded.

Suki furrowed her brow as she directed her attention to her girlfriend’s body language. “Chenille, listen.” She sighed. “So, I get that you don’t like Branch all that much but-”

“Wait, what? Who said I didn’t like him?”

Everyone, save Poppy, turned to stare at her.

“You threw a tantrum on Saturday just because he was sitting there.” said Smidge.

“Alright, so I may have gotten slightly irritated but I wouldn’t call it a tantrum.”

“She’s got a point there,” Satin commented with a smirk. “Her tantrums are waaaaay more immature than that.”

“Thank you, sis but did _anybody_ ask?”

“Does Chenille have some kinda vendetta against Branch that I don’t know about?” Poppy asked, honestly curious as to why Chenille was being singled out here. After all, none of the Snack Pack had an exactly glowing opinion of him before Saturday.

“I don’t! I really do not hate Branch in the slightest!”

“Alright, alright, I believe you but,” Suki raised a hand to gently rub against Chenille’s shoulder blade. “You made yourself pretty clear on Saturday when you said you didn’t want to be his friend. What changed?”

“What changed?” Chenille repeated quietly before a soft smile touched her lips. She suddenly grasped Suki’s free hand and cradled it in her lap, studying the fingers as she recalled fondly. “He helped me out with something really small and thinking back on it, I don’t even know if I’d have gotten anywhere without him…”

“Uh, cool…” Suki swooped under Chenille’s chin to get a glance at her expression, as if trying to deduce where this sudden bout of affection came from. “Soooo, what’d he do?”

Chenille’s smile only broadened. “I’ll tell you later.” She whispered and barely able to contain a childish squeal of happiness, she seized hold of Suki’s face and pulled her in for a kiss.

Suki gave a delayed but enthusiastic respond as she perked up, tugging Chenille closer by the arm.

“Awwww…” Poppy cooed.

Satin was less endeared. “They promised they wouldn’t do this in front of me. They lied.”

Chenille’s eyelids snapped open. “Excuse me?” She tore the contact apart to address her sister, shoving away a very bewildered Suki, who flopped back against the bed. “You don’t get to complain. I have every right to do whatever the Hell I want after what _you_ did. We will never get all that glitter off the couch, Satin!”

“For the last time, I didn’t invite him, he invited himself!” Satin insisted.

“And you kicked me out too!” Suki added, grinning but eager to join in the squabble.

“I did not kick you out. I asked you to buzz off, as politely as I possibly could.”

“Ah, man. I’m sooooo drawing a dick on your face when you’re sleeping.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said you look nice today.”

“Hey, hey. No dicks on my sister’s face. I go out in public with her.”

“Weeeeell, what if you both had matching-ah!”

With a simultaneous scoff from both sisters, Suki was tipped backwards and she toppled to the floor with a thud. Poppy, Satin and Chenille all burst into giggles, as Suki fixed them with exaggerated scowl.

“Not that you _geniuses_ haven’t been a huge help already,” Smidge raised her voice to be heard over their laughter. “But shouldn’t you be getting back to Poppy’s romantic dilemma? I feel like this is pretty important right now.”

They three geniuses in question, could only gawk at her for several seconds before they pulled themselves together, the twins clearing their throats and Suki settling on the bed again.

“Orrrrrrr,” Poppy suggested, desperate to just keep the moment silly for as long as possible. “We could just forget about all that and push Suki off the bed again.”

She demonstrated.

Suki yelped.

“Poppy,” Chenille sighed, ignoring her the sounds of distress her girlfriend was making. “We can’t just keep pushing Suki off the bed as a distraction forever.”

Suki rose and climbed up on the mattress.

Poppy pushed her off again. “Why not?”

“Because I’m pretty sure this is quite a big problem.” Said Satin as she stretched a hand down to help Suki up. “Didn’t you just say that you couldn’t even go home now?”

“Ehhhhhh…” She gave a noncommittal shrug, her knotted legs squirming slightly. “I guess I can go home. I just… can’t talk to Branch… or look at him…. or be in the same room as him… yeah, I can’t go home.”

“Which is why we need to talk this over.”

“And we haven’t even brought up Creek yet.” Added Chenille. “I’m sure you’re thinking a lot about him and…. well, how he feels about this.”

Poppy winced. “Yeeeaaah… about that….”

“Aww, baby!” Satin had pulled her in for another one-arm hug. “Listen, I just need to tell you it’s okay. If you’re feeling guilty for loving two people at once, you shouldn’t be. It’s not your fault and I promise you’ll figure this out and-”

“Two people at once? Are you kidding me?” Smidge scoffed. “Poppy has never loved Creek in her life. She had a crush on him for a while, yeah, but have you people not been paying attention? Do you even remember what happened Saturday night?”

“Poppy said they had a disagreement but they worked it out.”

“And you bought it?”

“If she was having any serious problems with Creek, she’d tell us.”

Smidge said nothing but merely turned to Poppy with raised eyebrows and shrugged.

“I…” Poppy tried but her voice lost its strength. She swallowed. “I tried to… I was gonna break up with Creek yesterday but I changed my mind.”

Suki squinted. “You…. uh… Poppy, breaking up with somebody is a hard decision to make….”

“And you really don’t seem like the type to even think of it unless you had a good reason.” Added Chenille.

Satin leaned forward. “So, what made you change your mind?”

Poppy felt her arms wind around each other, fidgeting fingers scratching at the skin. “When I showed up, he-he was crying.”

As if jolted by these words, Smidge’s head shot up. “He guilted you out of it?!”

“No! He didn’t know I was gonna do it! I just showed up at his place and his eyes were all red and…” She trailed off.

Suki nodded slowly. “Well, I guess I can get that. I probably wouldn’t be able to go through with it either.”

“But Poppy,” Satin placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you really want to end things with Creek, you’ll have to do it soon.”

“And _then_ you can focus on whatever is going on with Branch.” Chenille clapped her hands in affirmation. “There! Once you get all this sorted, everything will be fine.”

“Yeeeeeeeahh, kinda…”

“Poppy.” Smidge said sternly.

She glanced up from her knees to meet her friend’s bright but steely gaze.

“I know it’s gonna be hard to try it a second time but you can do it. You’ll be able to break up with Creek. It’s not like you’re legally bound to him or some… what? What is it?”

Poppy could feel the way her face stretched into an ugly grimace. “He has my bell.” She stated simply, her breathless voice coming across as startlingly nonchalant.

For a brief moment, nobody spoke.

“Your… cowbell?” Satin asked, quietly baffled.

She nodded.

Suki squinted. “B-but, but isn’t that like-”

“Kind of like a promise ring, yeah.” Chenille confirmed. “Poppy, you were going to break up with him, why did you-?”

“I HAD TO!”

Everyone but Smidge jumped at Poppy’s sudden outburst, the entire room instantly dropping to a startled silence.

Both Suki and Poppy opened their mouths to speak but Poppy cut the other girl off with frantically waving hands. At that very second, she didn’t want to hear anything from anyone. She didn’t know if she could swallow it. Good God, her body was getting restless. She needed to move. She needed to move _now_.

Poppy threw her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Her bare feet stuttered as her next course of action came up blank.

Where the fuck was she going to go? The park? The bridge? The Happy Tree? Starfunkles? Why would she go to any of these places? All of them were a complicated mix of memories that Poppy did not particularly want to revisit right now. But she needed to walk, she needed to think, she just needed to be _somewhere_.

Trying to pull her rapid fire thoughts together, Poppy only now realized that she was walking in haphazard circles around the cluttered bedroom. Turning back to the girls on the bed, they were all blatantly staring, wearing expressions of concern.

“Are you okay?” Chenille asked cautiously.

“Yep!” She declared, a little too loudly judging by how the twins winced.

Another pause.

Her bottom lip opened and shut hopelessly until she realized her mind was overflowing just a tad too much. Not that she was that surprised but once again, Poppy couldn’t keep one goddamn thing to herself.

She cracked on the spot, allowing a huge mess of barely coherent babble to spill freely from her mouth. “I wasn’t gonna give him the bell! I really wasn’t, I-I-I said I was gonna wait and I _was_ gonna wait but then he was crying and he was talkin’ about his Dad and then he said I wouldn’t leave him but I was gonna leave him but then I _couldn’t_ leave him and-and-and- he-he said I didn’t really love him and I don’t think I do love him but I couldn’t say that ‘cause he was crying and his Dad-but-but anyways, I had to say I _did_ love him and I said I would prove it ‘cause he didn’t believe me so I gave him the bell but now he has the bell and I don’t-”

A firm grip yanked her arm, bringing her scattered sentences to an abrupt halt. Poppy nearly fell forward but was propped up mid tumble, by Smidge’s free hand slapping against her shoulder. Poppy had been pulled to the eye-level of her tiny friend and was now blinking rapidly at a face of absolute stone.

“So, let me get this straight.” Smidge said, low and slow. “You gave Creek your cowbell.”

Poppy nodded.

“But you don’t love him.”

Her lips tightened guiltily but she nodded again.

Smidge’s tongue poked out and licked the corner of her lip thoughtfully, never breaking eye contact with Poppy, as she came to her conclusion. Once reached, she removed her steel-like fingers from around Poppy’s arm and placed it on her other shoulder. “You’re an idiot.” She stated, tone indefinite.

_Wow._

Despite the weight of the situation, Poppy couldn’t help the way her head was thrown back and her expression formed what she didn’t doubt was an almost comical pout. “I-I, uh, well, I _guess_ that’s true and you got a point but was that really-?”

“I’m not done.” Smidge interrupted. “You’re an idiot. Giving Creek your bell was a stupid thing to do. You did a stupid thing, Poppy. You clearly didn’t think it through at all.”

“Aww, c’mon, Smidge.” Said Suki sympathetically. “She knows she did a stupid thing. You don’t have to remind her.”

Smidge turned to face the other girls, stance wide, hands on her hips. “Does she really know though? Because I feel like none of you have emphasised just _how_ stupid it is.”

“Well, that would just be mean.” Satin pointed out.

“It probably is, yeah. But don’t you think Poppy should be aware just how much she fucked up? Y’know, so she’ll realize just how much she has to fix it?”

“I can’t fix it! I already told you, his Dad-”

Poppy was silenced by two small fingers pressed against her lips.

Smidge continued, gesturing to the pink haired specimen in question. “This is what I’m talking about. She knows it was a bad idea but she’s got herself believing that there’s no way out of it. She’s still underestimating what a big time mistake this is, or else she’d been doing everything she could to get out of it.”

Her fingers lowered and closed themselves under Poppy’s chin. She popped her face up, with a small smirk. “But you can. You can fix this. You just need to get the cowbell from Creek.”

“Smidge, I know. I know I can just ask for it back but I don’t think you realize just how much that would crush him, I can’t-”

“I understand the situation, Poppy.” She said sharply. “I get why you feel you can’t do it but…. you gotta. You gotta do this for your own good. Whatever Creek’s problems are, they’re not _your_ fault.”

“I never said they were but…” Poppy wavered. “His feelings, Smidge. I’ve given him the bell and he was so happy about it. He’s gonna-he’s gonna…”

“He’s probably gonna be upset. But that’s kinda inevitable at this point. Poppy, there is no way out of this situation without maybe hurting Creek.” Smidge sighed, as she caught a look at Poppy’s reluctant expression. “But if you let this relationship keep going, all it’s gonna do it hurt both of you and that’s gonna be way worse in the long run than taking that bell back now.”

“I mean… I guess it would be...maybe I-I could just um…”

The hand on her chin roamed upward and settled on her cheek. “Poppy, please.” Smidge’s eyes softened. “You gotta look after your own happiness and I know it’s gonna be tough now but please just do it. This will all be over eventually if you just do it as soon as possible. Take your bell back, take your life back, do whatever, just please. We want you to be happy again.”

_Might hurt one person. But all worth it in the long run._

Yeah. Yeah, that made sense. That made perfect sense.

Poppy would have to hurt Creek’s feelings but she would make it up to him. Who ever said that a failed relationship meant the severing of a friendship? Poppy would still be there if he ever had a bad day. She was a cheery little ray of sunshine, lifting spirits was her specialty.

Well, at least it was. But with the gloomy vibe she had been radiating lately, would she even be capable of brightening days anymore?

Well, if she and Creek went their separate ways, then gloomy problem solved. Poppy’s perky pep magic would return to her in no time, as sparkly as ever. This was for the best. It really was.

Very slowly, Poppy raised her hand and plopped it on Smidge’s head, ruffling affectionately. “Yes.” She said quietly, before the barely visible smile stretched into a wide grin. “Yes. Yes. Yesyesyesyes. I’m gonna do it. I’ll do it. I’ll fix everything. It’s all gonna be okay. I’m gonna-oof!”

Smidge had lunged forward, throwing her arms around Poppy’s torso.

She hugged back, just as enthusiastically and wisely ignoring any possible ruptures of her internal organs. The polite thing to do during a hug with Smidge.

“I’m gonna ask one thing though,” Her voice was muffled though the fabric of Poppy’s shirt.

“Yeah?”

“I know I said get that bell as soon as possible but,” Smidge peered up at her, baby blue eyes suddenly looking ten times more adorable than usual. “Can we all go out for some food first? I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry?!” Suki practically shrieked.

Poppy and Smidge faced the other three girls, all of whom had been kind enough to button their lips for most of Smidge’s speech. Until now, that is.

“You’ve eaten me out of house and home, you fucking gremlin!”

Smidge crossed the room and barely blinked as she, with minimal effort, pushed Suki off the bed. Ignoring the outraged complaints coming from the floor, she turned to address Poppy and the twins as they all discussed their take-out preferences.

Once Suki had stopped yelling, she was allowed to contribute to the meeting.

* * *

Bridget could guess from the footsteps alone, that there was something off about Branch.

They stood waiting, listening to the sound of clumsy feet thudding down the hallway, Gristle’s beating knuckles still hovering against the door.

“I can hear him!” He said brightly. “He’s actually coming to the door, I can’t believe this!”

Bridget hummed in acknowledgement, forming a small smile at her boyfriend’s eagerness. Said smile dissolved instantly once they heard a bump, an “Ow!” and a “Fuck!”

He must have run into a wall.

Before either of them could vocally question this, the door was thrown open. Branch staggered forward and immediately pressed his hand against the frame to balance himself. His foggy gaze seemed to barely recognize either Bridget or Gristle, although with four long, hard blinks, faint realization dawned on his face.

“Bridget...” He drawled, in a voice that was almost like Branch but not quite. Far too loose. “And, and uhhh…” He looked at Gristle blankly. “You’re… you’re the fuck who sends me the emails. Gizzle. You’re Gizzle.”

Gristle laughed, giving his girlfriend a light nudge. “And we were afraid he’d be in a bad mood. Dude’s pretending he doesn’t even know my name. His humour has not left the building, folks.”

“Uh, honey I think he might be-”

“Wait.” Branch said with clear confusion, looking between the couple as if he were solving a theoretical equation. “You don’t know where I live…. b-but… you’re here…” His sentence was going at a snail’s pace. “Where I live. You don’t know but you got here. Why did you get here?”

“Why did we….?” Bridget mumbled the question under her breath, in an effort to process it. “We’re uh… Biggie told us. We were just gonna check to see if you were all okay and stuff. I-I mean you had to leave work early, right?”

“Yeah but look at him!” Gristle exclaimed, slapping a hand on Branch’s shoulder. (Branch wobbled.) “He’s talkin’, he’s tellin’ jokes. My bro is fine. Riiiight…” He leaned in very close. _“Bench?”_ He winked.

Branch stared, with a slow shake of his head. “My name’s not Bench. It’s-it’s-it’s Branch. I’m Branch. But…but…butbut I gotta get back to…to doin’ stuff so…bye….” He turned and wandered back into the flat, his palm to the wall, so he could walk in a straight line.

The two watched him stumble down the hall, through the door, which he had left open wide.

“I think this is his way of inviting us in.” Gristle whispered.

“Uhh…I don’t think it is but…” Bridget observed as Branch stubbed his foot against a bookshelf. He barked out something unintelligible before shaking it off and limping onwards.

She nodded. “I think we gotta stay here with him ‘til Poppy gets back. He might hurt himself.”

Gristle was already letting himself in. “Why do you say that? Not that I don’t wanna hang out with my best buddy but do you really think th-Branch, dude!” He suddenly gasped, stopping dead in the living room entrance.

Branch was bent over the couch, mixing white lemonade with vodka. He looked up innocently. “What?”

“It’s like two in the afternoon, man! Are you really trying to get drunk now?”

“Trying?” Bridget shuffled out from behind Gristle, taking in the scene for herself. “Sweetheart, I’m-I’m pretty sure he’s got to that part already.”

It took a moment but once it finally hit Gristle, his jaw dropped. He looked utterly betrayed. “You’re drunk, Branch?!”

“Wah-what? No!” Branch retorted immediately, thrusting his drink in Gristle’s direction. “You see this? You see this? This-this-this is…” He jabbed the glass repeatedly with his forefinger, disturbing the stillness of the liquid. “This is lemonade. I’m drinking lemonade. You see me gettin’ drunk from lemonade? Nah, you can’t do that. You can’t get drunk from lemonade, stupid.”

“You can if you pour vodka in it, stupid!” Gristle snapped back, looking offended that Branch would rather drink until he was hammered than spend quality sober time with _him_. _His friend_.

“Fucking Hell, Grisset.” Branch stood, briefly stumbling backwards before he composed himself. He pointed to Gristle. “I’ll have you know that I’m a grown ass man and I can drink in my own damn home. That’s-that’s a thing I can do. I can do that. But _you!_ You don’t get to come in here with your ffffuckin’ green hair and tell _me_ how to do shit! If I wanna get drunk, I can get drunk-”

“You just said you _weren’t_ drunk! Branch, what the Hell are you talking about?”

Branch gawked, appearing as if it took most of his brain power to think of a retaliation. Finally, he gave up. “How the fuck did you get in here?!”

“You let us in!”

“Why’d I do that?”

“Because we’re your friends and you love us!”

“Hey, uh, hey, Branch…” Bridget’s quiet voice raised as loud as it could go, as she interrupted the little quarrel. “Um, how you feeling? Are you-are you still sick?”

Branch raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. “Fantastic, Bridget, I’m fffantastic. You see me havin’ a fuckin’ lemonade party here? I’m great, I’m great, I’m-” He cut himself off to take a breath before swallowing and slumping down on the couch again. “Great.”

“You don’t look too great.” Gristle pointed out, sitting down next to him. “Or sound too great. And not acting too great either, honestly. I mean-”

“Shut the fuck up, Gizard.”

Bridget sighed softly. “Branch, do you think… you could, um… well, he-he’s kinda sensitive and he-”

“I’m not sensitive,” Gristle grumbled, slouching into the couch crease with knotted arms. “It’s just that I come to this guy’s home, _while I’m already on a date_ , to check up on him and how does he say thank you?” He gestured wildly to Branch, who was taking another swig of spiked lemonade. “He’s drunk-”

“I’m not drunk!”

“He’s _drunk_ and he’s yelling at me!”

“Bib-bri-bi-no, fuck-Bridget!” Branch spat the name out, with much difficulty. “Bridget, why’s your boyfriend so angry?”

Bridget settled down on Gristle’s armrest and attempted comfort by stroking his hair. He was still pouting, gaze fixed dead ahead. “You just kinda hurt his feelings.” She shrugged.

“I…I did?”

Bridget did not expect what happened next. Quite honestly, it slightly disturbed her but she felt that when thinking back in fifty years, she would be glad she witnessed it.

Branch set his glass down on the coffee table and after contemplating for a solid thirty seconds, slid closer to Gristle and let a hand flop down on his shoulder.

“Don’t touch me, Branch.”

“Grisset, j-j-just-just-just listen to me, alright?” He slurred.

“Branch, I said-”

“Listen, listen, jus’ listen. I’ll-I’ll make it quick and good and all that but you gotta listen, c’mere, c’mere…”

With Branch’s fingers insistently attempting to wind Gristle around to face him, he turned reluctantly. Branch was dedicated in looking him dead in the eye. “You’re an amazing dude, Gizzle. Y’know why you’re great? Y-y’wanna know why you’re great?”

He poked a finger, a little forcefully against Gristle’s chest, resulting in an “Ouch!” which Branch either ignored or just didn’t take in. “You got a heart, man…it’s-it’s a big heart. It’s like the big mac meal of hearts, dude. Like huuuuuge. And it’s got all the…the…fuck, man. What d’they put on big macs now? Like lettuce and mustard and shit like that?”

“Special sauce, cheese, pickles, onion…” Gristle was listing them off on his fingers. “And then there’s the burger itself, which I think is my heart. And like, all the extra stuff is all the goodness around it, right?”

Branch’s lips parted as he nodded, inspired. “That’s it. That was beautiful. You got-you got-you got just so much, man! So much good and you know you’re good and it’s amazing and you’re amazing and what the fuck do you think you’re doin’ here?” His grip tightened on Gristle’s shoulders.

His head cocked in confusion. “What do you mean? Me and Bridget showed up to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, but that’s jus’ what I’m sayin’, look,” Another finger prod to Gristle’s big mac heart. “You, with your big stupid heart, gonna come _all_ over here to see _me_. I’m-I’m…I’m mmmmme. All I got is a heart straight outta the fuckin’ dollar menu, you don’t gotta-”

“Hey, hey, hey, now. That’s not true.” Gristle curled his own hands around Branch’s elbows.

“It is, it is, d-d’you see this shit, Grizzet?!” Branch picked up his glass and dangled it between them before slamming it down again, a few dollops dropping on the coffee table.

“It’s the middle of the goddamn day and I’m drinkin’ this shit. I mixed my fuckin’ vodka with white lemonade, Gizzet, like I’m fuckin’ sixty-seven,” Wide eyed, he frantically shook his head. “I’m young, man! I’m not sixty-seven! You see any little shithead grandkids runnin’ around this place?!” He stopped shaking his head and began to shake Gristle. “No! ‘Cause I don’t got grandkids! You know what it takes to get grandkids, Gizzet?!”

Gristle’s bottom lip shook, the current topic of Branch’s tangent (or how they got to this point) currently lost on him. He turned to Bridget with a pleading look to save him but she could only stare back helplessly.

“It takes….” Branch leaned very close into Gristle’s face. “A lotta shit. That I never did before! There’s no fuckin’ grandkids in this apartment, Gizard.”

“I never said there was!” Gristle practically squeaked.

Branch’s shoulders drooped, his brow furrowing in thought. “A-alright, fuck it, I forgot. Wwwe-we were talkin’ ‘bout somethin’ important…”

“How great Gristle is.” Supplied Bridget.

Branch made an attempt to snap his fingers but got confused on the process midway. “That’s right! You-you-you…uh, we talked about your heart and shit, right?”

Gristle nodded. “You said it was like a big mac.”

“That’s right, a huge fuckin’ mac, a ginormous ass heart that you spread around to everybody you meet and y’know what Gizzle?! That’s why Bridget loves you and y’know what, dipshit? You deserve her, you deserve Bridget ‘cause you’re so fuckin’ nice and you’re also…. y-you’re also…”

Without warning, Branch’s palms slapped down on Gristle’s cheeks and briefly squeezed. “You’re a fuckin gorgeous man, Grisset.” He said solemnly. “Y’got like… y’got… dude, what are your eyes even about? They’re like fuckin’ burning bonfires, that’s what they are. Oh my God, dude. I was supposed to come up with some poetry shit describin’ your eyes like forever ago when I was helpin’ Bridget but dude, I got it now! They’re bonfires, they’re fuckin’ bonfires and they’re beautiful!”

“Uhh, Branch,” Bridget piped up, her skittish little voice holding just the tiniest tone of warning. “I think that’s enough…”

“No!” Gristle said instantly, looking absolutely enthralled. “Sweetie, let him talk about how pretty I am,”

She slipped around to stand behind the couch “Nah, I think,” She seized the back of their collars and with surprising strength, yanked the two apart. “That’s. Enough.”

Clearing her throat, Bridget turned to her boyfriend and tugged up a sweet smile. “Honey, would you mind getting a glass of water?”

Gristle, still baffled of having been pulled back, but ever eager to help, bounced up. “Yeah, sure. Anything for my lady love.”

“It’s for Branch,”

“Anything for my bro,” He corrected, already bounding down the hallway.

Bridget lowered herself into Gristle’s spot.

Branch didn’t mind in the slightest, looking delighted to have someone new to fawn over. “Bri-Brig,Bid-Bridget, hi. I-I-I gotta-listen, I gotta tell you that you’re great too so you gotta listen,”

“Braaaaanch,” Bridget drew his name out, successfully bringing his nonsensical mumblings to a standstill. “I think that, um… I think we should talk about what happened today. At Starfunkles?”

“I slammed my head on a table and got a new bruise.” Branch slurred, gesturing to his forehead.

Concerned, Bridget leaned closer to inspect the damage and reached up to brush his hair out of the way. And there it was. She slicked back the lank, greasy tuft to reveal a spread of nasty, purple stains.

“…Why’d you do that?”

“Some weird ass impulse, I dunno,” He mumbled.

_Sounds familiar._

Bridget nodded slowly. “Okay, but, um. You got a call, right? And Biggie said that you-”

“You know what I don’t get?” Said a loud voice from across the room. Gristle had returned, a glass of water in hand. “You’ve only been home a little longer than an hour, yeah?”

Branch blinked, shaking his head gormlessly. “I-I don’t got no fuckin’ clue how long I’ve been here, man.”

Gristle placed the water down on the table. “Well, that’s what Biggie said anyway. But damn, bro. You’re waaaay more than just kinda tipsy. How’d you get drunk so fast, dude?”

“Anything’s possible with enough determination.”

Both Bridget and Gristle looked to him with raised eyebrows.

Branch chuckled lowly. “What? You guys never heard that stupid motto before? Poppy says it all the-” He halted, mid-sentence.

The couple watched, as the color drained from Branch face although neither made a move until his hand shot forward, almost desperately, to grab his drink.

Gristle reflexively grabbed hold of his arm, with a startled yell. “Branch! What the Hell are you doing? You’ve had enough, dude.”

“You wanna lose that fuckin’ hand, Gisterd? Let go and let me drown myself in peace, why don’t ya?”

His arms snaked and squeezed themselves around Branch’s torso and he pulled him back, all while Branch bucked in protest.

“Get off, you fucker! I swear to God, I will-”

“Branch, listen! I care about your health and I care about you and I think you’ve definitely had-”

“GIZZLE LET GO!”

While Branch was distracted by the makeshift wrestling match Gristle had initiated, Bridget switched the two drinks, picking up the vodka glass and bottle and placing the water in its place.

Ignoring the yells of defiance that exploded from both boys, she entered the kitchen, poured the glass’s contents down the sink and hid the bottle away in a cupboard.

Now, they really needed to focus on getting Branch to sleep.

He didn’t notice she was gone as she reappeared but screeched out a plead to her to “Make (her) shitty boyfriend stop!”

“Gristle, honey. Let him have a drink.”

“But Bridget, he-” Gristle was cut off by his girlfriend’s eyes which were glancing pointedly at the glass on the table.

While he processed slowly, he gasped once he understood. “You’re a genius, sweetie!”

“That’s right, dumbass!” Branch joined in, still imprisoned in Gristle’s arm. “You _tell_ her. Tell her she’s smart, beautiful, talented, amazing…. You kinda suck but you’re good at tellin’ your girlfriend nice shit…wish I could say nice shit like you…”

At that moment, Gristle released him although this was also the time that Branch had decided to flop his body forward, utterly defeated. As a result, he crashed to the floor with a long, drawn out groan.

“Aw, shit, Branch, are you-?”

“Just let me die here.” He grunted, making no move to stand up.

The couple were on their feet immediately, to pick him up but Branch seemed reluctant to be pulled. “Nonono, fuck, I told you… I’m gonna…” He swallowed. “I’m gonna lie on the floor until I die.”

“Okay, what if I brought you to your bed to die instead?” Bridget asked, hoisting her wobbly friend into a standing position.

“I deserve the cold, hard ground.”

Gristle offered him the water glass. “Wanna drown your sorrows like you were hoping to, buddy?”

Branch seized the drink at once, and took a big gulp. “Oh my God…” He murmured.

“What?”

“I’ve crossed the fuckin’ barrier, man. I can’t even taste this shit anymore…”

The couple were already lugging him down the hallway.

“Honey, I don’t think that’s his room,” Bridget whispered.

Gristle had opened a door and peered inside the bright pink, rainbow decorated, stuffed animal inhabited bedroom. “You’re right.” He nodded, pulling the door shut. “I saw some concealer on the dresser.” His eyes squinted to examine Branch’s face. “I don’t think this guy has used that stuff in his life.”

“This one,” She elbowed open the second door and was greeted to the sight of an unsurprisingly underwhelming bedroom. The bed was bare, the blanket laying in a tangled pile on the floor and Bridget could only wonder how restless his last sleep was.

They entered, stepping across the carpets of clothes which had been tossed around haphazardly. She tutted silently. Branch had let his laundry build up. Judging from her own experience, this was never a good sign.

As Gristle seated Branch down at the bed and let him drink what remained of his glass, Bridget took the rest of the room in.

A chest of drawers was closed up and untouched in the corner, the stacks of books on top coated in a sheet of dust. Somehow, she doubted Branch bothered putting his clothes away anymore, instead just picking up whatever was halfway clean on the already available floor.

Damn, this guy was starting to remind her a lot of Highschool Bridget. Highschool Bridget was not a fun person to be. She was getting a tight stomach just thinking about Highschool Bridget.

His desk was the only aspect of the room, that seemed partly organized (or just lifelessly plain) All that was placed on the wooden surface was a computer, a box of tissues, Bergen Magazine and a cup of pens.

Hanging above was a corkboard, which brought the smallest smile to Bridget’s face, as it was the only thing that breathed a little bit of Branch, into the tired room. Crudely but endearingly drawn pencil doodles of big eyed, big toothed monsters, were pinned up in a scattered mess against a wheat colored background. “These are pretty good,” She chuckled.

Branch groaned. “I only draw those when I can’t concentrate on writing a stupid poem,” His voice bounced around inside the glass against his lips. He took a final gulp before setting it down on the nightstand. “Can I die now?”

Gristle’s phone buzzed from his pocket. Protruding the device, he scanned the contact. “Biggie.” He mouthed, looking up to Bridget, before jabbing the screen with his thumb, holding up a finger and exiting the room.

“Alright, so, um…” Bridget picked up the blanket and shook it out to clear off any dust. She may need to recommend vacuuming to Branch, once he’s sobered up. “You just lie down and you can get some rest,”

Branch didn’t lay down, but instead dropped like a stone, with an audible complaint from the bedsprings. “Bridget, listen…” He murmured.

Spreading the blanket over him, she looked down in curiosity before his uncoordinated hand reached forward and seized her wrist.

“You-you gotta…” He yawned. “You gotta listen, okay?”

Bridget nodded. “Listening.”

“I told Gizzerd about… all…uh… who he was, I told him he was great. I-I gotta tell you how great you ‘cause you gotta know. You’re just… you’re-you’re the best, Bridget.” He praised her sleepily. “You kept stickin’ around at Starfunkles even when…I was, uh…”

“Take your time.”

“I was all cranky and tired all the time and I kept gettin’ mad when you asked for help but you still stayed and you still showed up here to check and you’re just-you’re great, okay? You’re the nicest, you’re always the nicest…. You got…like…. warm. You got warm _in_ you, y’know?”

“Uhhh…” Bridget listened, flattered but confused by Branch’s slurred dialogue, as she pulled the blanket over his poked out feet. “Thanks, I guess. That’s really sweet,”

“You’re beautiful too, just like Gizzle. You told me that one time that you didn’t think so but you’re so fuckin’ wrong, man. Like, y-y’know what you are, Bristle? You’re fuckin’ Cinderella. You’re Cinderella, do you hear me? You’re a fuckin’ princess, Bridget and don’t let anybody tell you shit otherwise. Gizmo’s lucky to have you. He knows you’re a princess. You’re a….ffffffuck, what’s the word?....royalty! You’re royalty and you should be treated like that ‘cause you deserve it and…”

Bridget sat down at the end of Branch’s bed, listening to him ramble on with a small smile, the occasional nod and “Wow, thanks. That’s so nice of you to say.” Until his sentences dissolved into nothingness, his words slipping away as sleep overcame him. Barely thinking about the action, she gently took hold of the blanket and tucked it under his chin and smoothed it out across his shoulder. She imagined that it was something Highschool Bridget would have always wanted.

* * *

When Poppy was little, she would often play the Princess and The Knight game with Branch. Back then, Branch was usually the knight and Poppy, taking a liking to ruffles, lace and tiaras, happily became the princess.

But there were always exceptions. Days when Poppy wanted to tag along on Branch’s quest, so they decided she become his partner. ‘Knight Poppy the Beautiful’ she dubbed herself.

While they never wore anything but the clothes on their backs, Poppy had always envisioned armour when they played pretend. Hers was painted with flowers, glitter and rainbow stickers. She recalled, describing it to Branch through a crayon drawing, one day. He had merely smirked and said the dragon wouldn’t take her seriously like that.

For years, Poppy believed that she had armour. The metaphorical kind, that everyone had. A certain look that made you feel strong in any situation. Well… she felt she had worn armour her whole life, then. She had always been strong. Well, it had felt like that until lately. Lately… she didn’t know what she was.

She stood at Creek’s door, donned in what she would describe as quite possibly, the prettiest armour in existence. In other words, an utter explosion of colors. Clothes a mix matched collection of eye-popping shades and arms decked in rainbow bracelets and Silly Bandz. Her make-up was done to perfection, with the usual flecks of glitter dusting her cheeks. And then of course, the headband. The famous floral headband that had been with her through Hell and back.

She was Poppy, she was happy and this is who happy Poppy was and she was taking herself back if it killed her.

This was not going to be easy but she had made a promise to herself. She _was_ telling Creek she wanted her cowbell back.

She knocked.

Nothing.

She knocked again.

Still nothing.

_Don’t tell me I psyched myself up like I was going into fucking battle and the hippie’s not even home._

“Poppy?”

_Weeeeeelp! Never mind then._

Creek strolled up to her, the shadow of a cheery smile still evident on his face, as he felt around in his pants for his keys. “Not that it’s not lovely to see you again but didn’t we part ways for the day, earlier?”

Poppy blinked, unknowingly scrutinizing Creek’s serene expression. While she couldn’t quite pinpoint the difference, he had changed drastically since yesterday. He was in a good mood. A very good mood.

She had always felt Creek was a relatively perky guy but damn, Poppy had never seen him so happy looking in her life.

“I…um, yeah. I gotta talk with you about something and I feel you’re not gonna like it but-”

“Ah, really?” He interrupted, as he unlocked his door. “Funny coincidence but, I also have something to say and _you_ might not like it.”

“Alrighty, that’s cool.” Poppy nodded, relieved that there was an opening. “We can talk this through together. But I feel I should go first ‘cause I-”

“Err, actually darling. _I feel_ ,” Creek insisted, tone just as airy as ever but somehow stern enough to cut her off. “That I should go first, seeing as mine is probably a lot shorter and to the point.”

He cleared his throat professionally. “This relationship was nice, it really was. You’re a very sweet girl but I feel it’s not really working for me anymore. Don’t blame yourself for it. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sure we’ll both be happier with other people, all that usual prattle. I’m sure if you google ‘How to break up with someone nicely’ you’ll find it all there but I really don’t have time to go into it right now. I have a lot of work to do. It’s been great while it lasted.” He smiled politely, unlocking his apartment and sliding in. “Have a nice day, Poppy.” The door slammed shut.

Quite honestly, it took a moment. If felt like Creek had spoken at a lightning speed and just as the topic had been so unexpected, Poppy had been completely thrown off to find a response. So, for a few moments, she stood there, opened mouthed, still processing what had happened before a possessive thought hit her suddenly.

_My. Fucking. Bell._

Poppy threw her fist back. “Creek!” It collided with the door, and she almost swore that with just a little more strength, she could have punched a hole in it. “Open up! Open up right now!”

“Alright, alright,” She heard him sigh from the other side, before he pulled the door open, revealing his exasperated smile. “Poppy, I know this must be hard on you but-woah!”

Poppy pushed him aside, inviting herself in as she scanned the living area for any signs of faded gold. “My _bell_ , Creek! You can’t just break up with me without giving back my bell. That’s what I came all the way over here to get. So, where is it?!”

“Poppy,” Creek said patiently, closing the door behind him and looming closer. “Now, I don’t want you to get too upset. For once, just quiet down and listen like a sensible adult. Can you do that?”

She said nothing, momentarily looking up and down his decorate display shelf, for any signs of her possession. Finally, she turned to him and placed a hand on her hip, inviting him to proceed.

“So, I’ve told you about my restaurant. I’ve told you that’s it’s a dream of mine. I’ve told you that’s I’ve worked so hard to get this far, haven’t I?” His tone was gentle.

Poppy nodded curtly.

She really did want to be polite here. While she still considered Creek a close friend, how he had broken up with her, like he was dismissing a housekeeper, had stung. And now, all she wanted was her cowbell back and he was going off on a tangent about his restaurant again.

She was sick of hearing about it. Their conversations lately seemed to revolve solely around Creek’s dreams and Poppy’s unwavering encouragement.

“I know all about your restaurant, Creek. Can we please get back to my bell?”

“Yes, well. You’ll also remember that the only thing holding me back was the down payment and well,” His smile widened. “I’ve managed it. The money’s been paid. I just got back from a meeting with the previous owner and I-”

“Creek!” Poppy was losing her patience. “You don’t get to just dump me, hold my bell hostage and then start tellin’ a story about your success. I mean…” She paused, with a sigh as she realized just how excited he seemed. “Congrats….! And all that. I really hope you run a good business. We’ll be your first customers for sure buuuuuuut…” She waved a palm. “I need my bell back, bud.”

Creek looked at her, almost affectionately as his lips formed an amused smirk. “Poppy you…” He chuckled, with a light shake of his head. “Your bell’s an antique, Poppy. Did you ever have any idea how much that thing is worth?”

The birds nesting above a nearby window, sung happily, oblivious to the silence that settled between Creek and Poppy, and the overwhelming dread that hit Poppy like a freight train.

She could tell from the look on his face. The bell was gone. The bell was _long_ gone.

“You sold it.” She muttered.

He settled his hands in his loose pants pockets and shrugged, with a smile that clearly asked _What can ya do?_

“I sold it.”

_SMASH_

Creek threw himself out of the way, as something was flung across the room, aimed in his direction. It missed, colliding with the wall.

His head snapped down, flabbergasted, to the tiny potted cactus that lay in smithereens on the floor. “Really?” He sighed, looking over to Poppy by the shelf, with faint irritation. “Come on, I got that for a relatively cheap cost. I really thought it gave the room a sort of balance-”

“You sold it!” Poppy screeched, currently not taking in a goddamn word Creek was saying. She was absolutely fuming and found she couldn’t even articulate it properly. “You sold it! You sold it! You sold it!” Was all she could say and really, that was all she could think.

Her bell was gone. The family heirloom was gone. She had trusted Creek with it and Creek just… he just… he just-POOF! It was gone!

“Yes, Poppy. I sold it,” Creek drawled, as if this conversation was growing tedious. “But listen, once the restaurant takes off and believe me, it will, I’ll try to pay you back everything the bell was worth. It’ll probably take a few years but I promise. I won’t forget.”

 _“Creek,”_ Did he just… not understand? “I don’t want the money, I want the bell. It’s been in my family since like…. I don’t fucking know, the start of time! I told you this before, you knew! How the fuck could you sell it?!”

“Well, it’s legal, isn’t it? Selling one of your possessions?”

“IT WASN’T YOURS!” She screamed.

“Err, I believe it was? Poppy, you gave it to me of your own free will. It was mine. So, it was a lot more convenient than stealing the bell. That probably would have landed me in jail. But this?” He smiled, gesturing between himself and Poppy. “Perfectly legal, thus perfectly okay. I didn’t do it _specifically_ to hurt you. I just did it for my own reasons. I’m sorry you had to be involved.”

“No, you’re not.” Poppy shook her head stiffly. “You’re not sorry at all. You went out with me to get the bell and you fucked with my head in the process.” She ground the words out, unsure if she were about to trash the apartment or break down into tears. Maybe both. But for now, she kept her voice as strong as she could.

“Ehh…” Creek shrugged nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t say I did too much to your head. But I understand. While you’re probably fine, I know that you must be feeling a little wild right now but that’s okay. You’re a dramatic person, Poppy so it’s not really surprising that you’re just exaggerating what-”

She threw something at him again. Poppy’s anger was getting harder to contain and her breathing rougher by the minute. She wanted to lash out but how she did so, was done in reckless haste. Not breaking his gaze as her shaking hand felt about the display shelf for the first object her fingertips touched.

Creek ducked again and groaned, as the object hit the floor. “Poppy, really. This is getting a little out of-” He stopped, as his gaze travelled downward. “…. hand.” Creek’s lips parted as he crouched down and picked it up, careful not to prick his finger against the shattered glass. As he stood, he sent Poppy a chilling glare.

She had never seen Creek glare in her life.

Crossing the room, he placed the remnants of his possession back down on the shelf where it had come from.

A photograph, contained in a broken frame. A familiar wheat haired woman, clutching a baby in a purple blanket. Poppy felt her insides tighten up. “I’m sorry,” She said automatically. “I didn’t look what I was throwing, I didn’t think it would be-”

“Oh, for the love of God, Poppy, shut up!” Creek hissed. “It’s just a photo frame, I can easily replace it. You don’t have to get so goddamn emotional about everything!”

“Uh,” Her throat seemed to close up on itself and no words would come out without the risk of a crack. “Y-you’re right… I just,”

_I was used._

_I was tricked like I was a fucking toddler._

_I gave my bell away._

_My bell is gone._

_Dad is gonna be crushed._

_I’m an idiot._

_Everyone’s gonna know I’m an idiot._

_And even when I keep fucking up and fucking up I still smash a photo of somebody’s mom._

Thoughts were drowning her head and emotions were squeezing her chest but she couldn’t move. She was rooted to the spot, stuck in a rewind loop of the one useless thought. _What am I gonna do now?_

“I’m sorry.” Poppy repeated softly. She didn’t know if she was speaking to Creek or just in general. Branch, her Dad, Bridget, the rest of The Snack Pack. All they ever did was try to help, but she still made the dumb mistakes anyway. Why the fuck did she never listen?

“I’m sorry.” Creek said, in a cheap imitation of her voice, before turning to her, eyes hard. “You know, Poppy. I feel like you need to learn a few things about yourself.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“Do you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Reeeally? I mean, let’s talk about it. Firstly, you’re not a smart girl, Poppy. You know that, right?”

She nodded.

“I don’t just mean making the mistake of giving your cowbell away carelessly. I mean, you’ve been kind of dim, all your life.” He said casually. “Always focused on scrapbooks, colors, dancing, parties. Never a thought in your head, that wasn’t surrounded by a big, oblivious bubble of optimism.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Poppy asked, her voice dry as she folded her arms, allowing every word he said to hit her heart like a dart. But optimism? That was a good thing and she knew it.

“Ahh, nothing, really. For a child, anyway. I’m not going to say you have to grow up but at the age you’re at, you’re probably not going to survive unless you wise up a little bit. The world’s not all-”

“Not all Cupcakes and Rainbows, _I know_.”

Creek smirked. “Well, you say you know that, but honestly, when have you ever proven it? When have you ever said something, outside your cheery comfort zone? I mean, Hell, Poppy, one imperfect relationship, should not have fucked you up as hard as you say it has. Are you sure that it’s not just because it’s the first not good thing you’ve encountered in your life? Is this your very first struggle, Poppy?”

Before she could open her mouth with her (admittedly blank) rebuttal, Creek carried on.

“Just be real with yourself. You’re nothing but sugary nice things upstairs and in this world, that’s only going to get you so far. If I’m going to be honest, I don’t think relationships are for you, Poppy. They’re a little too complex. Maybe you should just stick to keeping friends. At the very least, you’re a perky girl who cheers people up sometimes. You’re happy, aren’t you? At least, you have _one thing_ you have to offer.”

A sniffle.

Creek heard and laughed quietly, pressing a hand against her cheek to force her to look at him. “Oh, never mind.” He chirped, using one of his fingers to wipe away a tear. “You’ve got one thing you’re good at. Being stupidly happy.” He leaned in with his easy smile, patted her cheek and whispered “And you can’t even do that right.”

Poppy wasn’t entirely sure what happened next. She couldn’t see much through her blurry eyes but one thing that her brain was screaming, was that she still didn’t like Creek touching her. She pulled away, as if she had been shocked.

He touched her again, this time poking her arm.

She backtracked another step.

A jab against her shoulder.

And again.

“Poppyyyy…” He sung teasingly as she backed farther and farther back, until suddenly, he slipped an arm behind her and the apartment door swung open.

The tip of his forefinger quickly shot forward, determined to do this before she could slap him away. He touched her nose with a “Boop!” And she nearly fell backwards in an effort to get away from him.

She stumbled back and could only stare as without a word, Creek tipped his head in farewell, his serene smile in place and slammed the door.

And that was that.

Poppy stood for what felt like hours although it may just have been a few minutes which slowed specifically for her to dwell on it all.

Without a sound, she turned and she walked away.

She walked.

And she walked.

And she kept walking.

In all honestly, Poppy felt like walking off the edge of the earth right about now.

Her armour had been useless.

* * *

_“Wow. I really love you.” She said from far away, a smile in her voice, in a tone so meltingly sweet, he could almost believe her._

_But now the only question that remained was how the Hell he had tricked her into thinking this._

Branch felt he was somewhere between sleep and consciousness, where his thoughts were hazy but loud and he could roll on to his side though his own free will.

But once the sleep muddled limbo faded into reality and he became aware of his surroundings, the only words that lingered in his mind were “I really love you.” In what was unmistakably Poppy’s voice.

But now, that he was awake, he realized what a surreal dream that was. Hell, Branch had dreamt that Mr. Dinkles was the mastermind behind Troll Town’s infamous underground mafia but that was nothing compared to this.

 _This_ was Poppy giggling through the receiver just moments before utterly stabbing him in the heart with every word she said, as she spiralled into a flurry about how in love with him she was. Mr. Dinkles’ criminal career seemed far likelier after that.

Branch pulled himself up and immediately regretted it, as his head pounded in protest. With a quick glance out the window, he realized it was the dead of night. Had the dream woken him up?

Weird. The dream seemed like such a long time ago.

Judging from the muffled sounds of the television, Poppy was still awake. Even weirder. Usually she went to sleep before him.

His hand reached out to pat the nightstand in search of his phone but he came up with nothing but a single empty glass.

Branch was sitting up in bed in the middle of the night, after what felt like the longest dream ever. He had a huge headache, his phone was missing and for some godforsaken reason, the TV was blaring at high volume. What the fuck was going on?

After several minutes of confused contemplation, he picked himself out of bed and headed for the hall on unsteady legs.

The television sounds grew louder as the door opened and the buzz of a whispered conversation spilled through the crack.

_Who. Is in. My home?_

Definitely intruders.

Alright, what’s the best course of action? He had a dumbbell set stashed away in his closet. If he aimed for their heads, he might just knock them out.

Or kill them.

Would Branch be sent to jail for that? Would that technically be self-defence? Where exactly did the law stand on this?

_Shit, wait. Is Poppy safe?_

His dumbbell plan instantly forgotten, Branch stumbled forward and shot up, in hopes that he didn’t catch sight of a vivid pink mop anywhere on the premises.

And he didn’t. He caught a green mop instead.

Gristle’s head whipped around at the ruckus he was making and grinned. “Branch, man! How’d you sleep?”

A second head, which had been resting snugly against Gristle’s chest, popped up to peer at him. Bridget smiled in greeting.

Branch’s mouth opened but he could only shake his head, bottom lip hanging loose. “W-what are you doing here?”

“We’ve been here all day, dude. In case you woke up and went for the vodka again or did something equally stupid.”

“The-the vodka?” Funnily enough, Branch vaguely recalled vodka being present at some point during his dream.

Bridget and Gristle too.

_Oh…_

_Oh no…_

_Oh, Jesus Christ, no…_

“You were drunk, Branch.” Informed Bridget.

_Yup. It happened. You were a sloppy drunken fuck and now you have two eye witnesses. I hope you’re happy with yourself._

A thought poked itself where it didn’t belong. A thought, that plunged a sense of dread into the pit of his stomach.

Okay, the drunk part of the dream was real. And the rest of it?

“And, uh…” Branch was almost afraid to ask. “Do you guys know _why_ I was drunk?”

“Why?” They asked in unison.

He shook his head. “Alright, so you don’t know.”

“Well, Biggie said that you got a phone call and it kinda got you all panicky,” Said Bridget.

“And we’re guessing that’s why,” Gristle shrugged. “Seeing as you got yourself plastered in like an hour. I mean, who drinks that fast without being stressed out about something?”

Bridget sat up straighter, her brow furrowing in concern. “Branch? Are-are you okay?”

He had let himself tip back, falling against the nearby wall and running an anxious hand through his hair.

This. This was bad.

_It happened. It happened. Jesus Fucking Christ, it happened. Poppy said the thing and you hung up on her, then went home and drank yourself into a stupor. How the fuck are you going to fix this, you idiot?!_

“Where’s Poppy?!” He asked frantically.

“Biggie told us earlier that she’s staying at Suki’s place tonight.”

Well, Branch wouldn’t want to go home to look at Branch’s face either, so he couldn’t fault her there.

But shit, it happened. It really fucking happened and honestly, he could perfectly understand why he had hit the vodka earlier like it was the end of the world. This was a lot to take in and Branch _still_ had no fucking clue how to deal with it, without trying his damndest to forget his own name in the process.

But why did it happen? How did it happen? What, in the name of God, had Poppy been thinking?

And what the fuck was he going to say to her now?

Something lightly papped his cheek and he jumped, startled as if he had been slapped. Breathing heavily, he took in Bridget’s soft face. She was standing in front of him.

How had he not seen her approach? He had eyes, didn’t he? What was wrong with him? Had Poppy’s confession really fucked him up this bad?

Gristle was suddenly there and placing a hand on his shoulder. Branch nearly leapt out of his skin.

_Apparently, Poppy’s confession burned your brain out or something._

They were talking. Shit, they were talking. Pay attention to what they’re saying. Fuck, do his ears work?

Okay, he may or may not pass out.

“Yes, yes. I’m listening. I’m listening!” He boomed, not listening. He was unable to grasp the couples’ words as his brain merely soaked them up and squished them into a nonsensical gooey mess. “C-could you guys just start from the beginning?”

“We’re just trying to ask if you’re okay, man.” Gristle was tightly gripping his shoulders, as if afraid Branch was going to collapse. “You look like you’re gonna die.”

_90% chance._

“Is it, um… is it about the phone call, Branch?”

He turned to Bridget, reluctantly meeting her dark liquid eyes. They looked back gently, as if coaxing him to speak his mind.

Well, it was either that or stand here, suffering in silence until his brain exploded. Teetering on the verge on whether he would regret this, Branch nodded quickly.

“Okay then, uh, you wanna talk about it?”

Another nod.

“Honey, just…” She placed a hand on Gristle’s chest and lightly pushed him back. “I think he can stand. Let’s just, uh, let’s give him room to breathe.”

The two parted the space between him and them and almost immediately, Branch had begun to pace.

“Alrighty, bro…” Gristle said, trying to act casual but clearly Branch’s nerves were rubbing off on him. He tucked his hands into his pockets. “We’re ready. Hit us. Give the whole dang thing whenever you’re ready.”

He halted. “Poppy.” He stated, before starting up again. “Poppy, Poppy, Poppy. Poppy did it, Poppy said the thing. And now I can’t fucking talk to Poppy. I dunno-I dunno how I did it but I got her believing she feels a thing she doesn’t feel and I flipped the fuck out ‘cause I didn’t know how to tell her that and I hung up and what the fuck is she gonna think now? That I ditched her? I didn’t want to ditch her but like… what else was I gonnna say?! I had nothing to say, I-” Branch stopped momentarily to catch his breath. How did Poppy talk at a mile a minute without fainting?

“Buddy!” Gristle said hastily, before Branch went back to ranting. “So, listen. This sounds like a pretty sucky situation and all buuuut…. I’m kinda lost, man. I got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe y-you could tell us what Poppy said?” Bridget tried.

_Do you two just want me dead? Is that the agenda here?_

Branch straightened his back out, briefly holding out his arms to keep his balance before deciding that he was secure. He inhaled sharply. “Poppy said…” He began slowly. “Th-that she…” This was it. He was going to throw up. He closed his eyes. “That she loved me.”

One eye cracked open. He still felt like shit, that was for sure, but no more than he did five minutes ago.

The stunned silence didn’t last as after precisely six seconds worth or processing, Gristle and Bridget squeaked in unison, both bouncing giddily.

“Awww, it’s happened, it’s finally happened, Branch.” Bridget beamed. “You don’t gotta deal with unrequited love anymore!”

Gristle shot to Branch’s side eagerly, roughly ruffling his hair. “My bro can finally be happy. F.B Blue ain’t gonna be such a downer anymore. This is great!”

“G-great?! No! This is not great!” Branch raised his voice to be heard over their squeals. “This is a fucking disaster, guys! How are you not getting this?”

Gristle cocked his head in bewilderment. “Dude, you… you did it. You got the girl.”

“No, I didn’t.” He shook his head stubbornly. “The girl doesn’t know what she’s thinking!”

“Branch, buddy…I-I’m sorry but I’m really not following right now. So, Poppy told you she loved you, right?”

His breath hitched, but he nodded.

“Aaaaand she’s broken up with her shitty boyfriend?”

“No, she’s still-wait.” Branch paused, momentarily going off track. “I thought you were friends with Creek.”

He jutted a thumb in Bridget’s direction. “Lady love doesn’t trust him so neither do I. She told me a lot about how he was pushing Poppy into doing stuff she didn’t want to. Any man who can’t respect is partner, is not a man I want in my life.”

Bridget ‘awwwwed’ quietly.

Branch blinked, astonished. “Right, yeah, uh. So, yeah, she’s still with him, I think. She...” His shoulders dropped. “She said she was giving him her cowbell.”

The couple turned to each other for an explanation. Both met a face of similar confusion.

“Oh, uh. It’s… it’s her family’s tradition thing. Give a guy your cowbell, it’s just like ‘Hey, we’ll be together forever now’ One of those things.”

“Ohhhhh…” The two nodded in relative understanding.

“B-but how come she’s giving it to Creek? He’s been making her real upset, hasn’t he?”

Branch shrugged helplessly. “Bridget, I-I have no idea. I don’t know what’s been going on with her and Creek. He blackmailed me to stay the fuck out of it but…” He sighed, reluctantly revisiting his thoughts from three AM last night.

“Maybe if I sucked it up like a goddamn adult, I could have talked to her about it. But no! I didn’t want to help her when she needed me or Creek was gonna tell her all about the stupid poetry. I was terrified of her finding out about it, so I let her go through Hell with this asshole. So, she gets mad ‘cause I wouldn’t help her, she leaves and then she comes back and tells me she loves me. I’m a piece of shit. Why the fuck does she think she loves a guy who wouldn’t help her when she needed it?”

“I…” Gristle’s voice broke. “I…I still don’t get it. Branch,” He attempted a cheerful smile. “She loves you, Branch. Why is this not a good thing?”

He had tried. But somehow, Branch guessed that the idea of love being anything more than a trick of the mind, was not a concept that someone as naïve as Gristle, could easily grasp.

His hands hovered, as his lips quivered in hopes of finding a suitable way of phrasing this. But then, Branch realized, that it was a topic, that may take him all night. Also, there was probably a little too much self-hatred nonsense involved, that he doubted either of them wanted to listen to. Especially from the biggest downer in Bergen Town.

Branch dropped his arms. They slapped against his sides. “You guys can go home now,” He said monotonously. “Sorry you… had to see me with… the vodka and all that.”

“Dude, what are you talking about? That was great. You told me I was beautiful.”

_… No more alcohol. Ever._

“Branch, y’know. We don’t have to leave.” Bridget’s skittish little voice was probably one of the biggest barrier breakers Branch had ever known. “If you don’t wanna be on your own, we can-”

He resisted with a stubborn shake of his head, tightly knotting his arms as if to protect his heartstrings. “I’m fine. I just, it’s just… you… I…” He trailed off with a groan of frustration.

And then, without a word, Branch broke away from them and headed to his room.

Why was he just abruptly leaving them in the first place? He just… didn’t know how to talk to them about this. Branch had no idea know what he could say, without the discussion going around in circles, with Gristle’s big exuberant eyes, blinking blankly every step of the way.

These two were a perfectly happy couple. They didn’t deserve some sad drunk kid, sobering up and spilling his heart out to them. They deserved to go home. It was the middle of the fucking night.

Branch threw himself down on the floor, slamming his head against the back of his bed. He bit his tongue and breathed in the pain, not going to wince if it killed him.

He heard the door creak open.

“Branch?”

“Go home, Bridget.”

While usually the type to follow orders, Branch was not remotely surprised as he heard her footsteps pitter patter across the floor, politely stepping over his dirty clothes. Bridget always had a spark of disobedience in her heart after all.

She kneeled down beside him but he didn’t turn, keeping his dead gaze fixed in front of him.

Her voice got caught in her throat in little squeaks as she tried to find the right words until finally, she settled for a simple name. “Lady Glitter Sparkles.”

At this, Branch _had_ to turn his head, if only to give her an odd look. “Are we…. really talking about this now? The weird alter ego you came up with?”

“Branch,” She said solemnly. “I understand. You think that… you think that Poppy only sees the Lady Glitter Sparkles side to you… a-and not the Bridget.”

This got a small chuckle out of him. “The Bridget? The Bridget in me?”

She smiled her tiny smile. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”

As Branch recalled Bridget’s love story, he found himself nodding. Okay, now that he thought about it, he did have to admit, there were a few similarities here. But the difference? One person was sweet Bridget. The other was piece of shit Branch. It didn’t take a genius to figure out which one of them received love.

“Did you try to put on an act before? Were you different to how you usually were? Is that why you think you tricked her?”

Branch shook his head. “I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know what I did that made her feel-”

“What if it was just you being you, then?”

“Bridget, have you _met_ me?”

 _“Yes!”_ She was honestly starting to sound a little exasperated. “And you helped me when I needed you. You didn’t even know me but you helped me feel confidant. A-and now, I wanna help you too.” Her hand reached out to pat his wrist. “You’re good, Branch. You’re really good. I need you to understand. You’re just like me too.”

He scoffed, trying very hard not to let what she was saying, get to him. “Bridget, we’re not exactly the most similar people.”

“No, we’re not.”

Branch lifted his head, unnerved by the slight hardness of her voice.

“When I loved somebody, I wore a wig, changed my name and pretended to be somebody else. B-but while I kinda acted different, I was… I was still me. A-and turns out he loved me. Just how I was.”

“Bridget-”

“But you didn’t wear a wig. You didn’t pretend to be somebody else. You just acted like you and you just don’t know how to accept that somebody can love you for it.” Bridget’s expression was crumbling now as she stared at him pleadingly. “I didn’t either but they can, Branch! No matter how much you think you’re not good enough, somebody’s gonna love you! I gotta remember that every day and I want you to remember it too.”

Just a tad overwhelmed, Branch swallowed, before clearing his throat. “You know, just because some people think they’re in love, doesn’t mean they really are. Sometimes it’s just their head messing with them.”

“Well…” Bridget shrugged. “So? Maybe Poppy isn’t sure if she loves you. But, maybe you guys could… figure that out together.”

“And what about when she realizes she’s been wrong the whole time?”

“When or If.”

_“When.”_

“Branch?”

He grunted out a response.

“Are you afraid to try it?”

“I’m afraid of most things if you haven’t noticed, Bridget.”

“Maybe Poppy’s scared too.” She muttered.

Branch said nothing but drew his legs up to his chest and let his chin rest against the knees.

Bridget took a deep breath. “L-look I’m… I’m not really good at telling people how to do stuff with their lives. I’m not really good at comforting either. B-but I’ve been trying ‘cause… I really wanna thank you for all you’ve done.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” He mumbled.

“I’m gonna anyway. A-and I’m gonna start by saying… we don’t know for sure if Poppy really loves you or not b-but you both _feel_ like you love each other now so… when two people feel the same way, isn’t it just the way it is, that you go with it? You take a chance? And maybe it won’t work. Or maybe it will. B-but you’re never gonna know if you don’t try it.”

“What am I even going to say to her?” Branch pondered aloud. He briefly wondered if this scenario would be the same if it were anyone but Bridget. Probably not. He personally felt like Bridget would take anything he said to the grave.

“You love her?”

“… and then what?” He managed to keep the crack out of his voice. “What happens after that?”

Bridget shrugged. “That’s the chance part.”

“And what if it goes wrong?”

“Branch, wouldn’t being honest and telling her you love her, probably be the easiest thing to do right now? I mean, even if it does go wrong, is being all awkward and panicky and avoiding her, really gonna be better? Is this what you’d rather do?”

He looked up from his knees.

_Well, shit. Girl’s got a point._

“I just don’t want to-”

“You’re not bad.” Bridget assured him, as if reading his mind. “No matter how bad you think you are, you can fall in love with people if you want. People can love you back. You can let them love you and that doesn’t make you bad. And they can love you, even for all the reasons you think you’re bad, I promise.”

She had gone and momentarily deleted every word in Branch’s vocabulary, and all he could do was stare, speechless and absolutely floored. Her speech wasn’t even well constructed but the sincerity behind every word, grabbed tightly at his insides.

He located some words. Only two. Fairly basic.

“Thank you.” He croaked. “I’m-I’m-”

_Well, shit. I think it’s Go Time._

“I’m going to do it.”

Bridget looked puzzled. “Uhhh, do what?”

“It.” Branch was already standing up, and dusting off his jeans. He tossed a few shirts off the floor, in search for one of his cleaner jackets. “Going to tell her. Now.”

“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.

He nodded, sniffing a hoodie before pulling away with a wrinkle of his nose. “Right now.”

“Branch, it’s late-”

“She’s at Suki’s, right? There is no way in Hell Poppy is asleep right now.”

“Yeah, but, you still wanna go-”

“Bridget, please.” Branch suddenly stopped rooting through his clothes, his eyes revealing that familiar flash of panic, that he had temporarily abandoned. “I-I’m not going to have it in me to do this tomorrow. Hell, I’ll probably curl up into a ball like a fucking hedgehog in an hour or so. But, right now? I feel like I _can_ , so I've got to grab it and run. You and Gristle can go home if you want or you can have my bed. I’ll take the couch. But yeah, just… just let me change, okay?”

Chewing her bottom lip, Bridget released a deep exhale (which Branch imagined was of the suffering variety) before exiting the room.

_This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, this is a bad idea,_

If his internal monologue could shut its pessimistic ass mouth for two minutes, that would be great.

Branch ignored the nagging little feeling as he rummaged around the room, changing into clean clothes, making an attempt to somewhat tidy his hair and towel off the excess layer of dried sweat that stained his underarms, all while chanting “This is a good idea, this is a good idea, this is a good idea,”

_You were drowning your sorrows not fourteen hours ago. You don’t get to pretend you’re an optimist now._

No, but Branch could at least use it as a motivator to drag his cynical ass across the city without losing his nerve.

He stopped before the mirror to flatten down his hair, before a familiar but forgotten sight graced him. The neatly doodled bright eyed Blue Branch and the lumpy, grumpy, pencil scribbled Grey Branch, both of whom were still pressed against either side of the wooden mirror frame.

A small smile touched Branch’s lips at the memory, as Poppy’s genuine liking of Grey Branch floated to the forefront of his mind. Why she liked that ugly little troll, was anyone’s guess.

_Current theme with Poppy: Likes questionable things._

Branch plucked the grey drawing off the mirror and careful not to wrinkle it too much, slipped it into his jean pocket.

Grey Branch… well, he felt he needed that little guy right now.

Blue Branch would stay home. Home was where he belonged.

Upon finally deciding that he was presentable enough to approach Poppy and tell her…. the thing, Branch crossed the room but paused by the door, hand momentarily hovering over the handle.

His room felt like the one safe place in the world. And in a time like this, the fear was screaming from his mind, from his stomach, from his heart. He was doing his best to contain it but honestly, Branch was terrified. He needed a place like his room right now.

But he wasn’t staying. He was going out. And once he stepped out, everything would change.

Branch pushed the door open, again picking up the murmur of conversation between Bridget and Gristle. He headed straight for the front door. “Alright, guys. So, I’m leaving now. I’ll probably be back.... well, at some point. I-I don’t really know how long this sort of thing takes but…”

His words died out as the couple walked out into the hallway. Bridget was clinging to Gristle’s arm, the glow of the latter’s phone screen illuminating their stricken faces.

Gristle gulped. “H-hey, uh, Branch…”

“You should come sit down.”

Branch chuckled nervously, his eyes scanning uncertainly across their odd expressions. “Guys, uh. I-I really need to go. I don’t know when I’ll be able to do this again-”

“Just, just come sit down for a second and we’ll talk and-”

“I’ve talked enough today.” He said stubbornly, popping a hand on his hip. “They only one I need to talk to right now, is Poppy.”

“You can’t…” Insisted Gristle, in a crackly voice. “P-Poppy’s not, Poppy is… she’s…”

Just as Branch was shuffling closer and closer to the door handle, as a means of escape, Bridget reached forward and took hold of his arm. Her eyes were frightened but her gentle voice did its best to maintain calm.

“Poppy’s missing, Branch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [OH SHIT](https://thetrolltree.tumblr.com/post/160770832634)
> 
> [BABIES](https://artsbyadi.tumblr.com/post/160637214029)
> 
> [OH SHIT VERSION 2](https://nickki-d-k.tumblr.com/post/160519674390)
> 
> [the thought of this will never not kill me](https://thetrolltree.tumblr.com/post/160470756074)
> 
> [A one yappy girl](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/160445024213)
> 
> [buncha doodles](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/160444605973)
> 
> [OH SHIT VERSION 3](http://dippy-draws.tumblr.com/post/160436264648)
> 
> [Save the lil strawberry](https://nickki-d-k.tumblr.com/post/160429264405)
> 
> [BABIES](https://artsbyadi.tumblr.com/post/160419195629)
> 
> [OH SHIT VERSION 4](https://le-poule.tumblr.com/post/160402868018)
> 
> [Another yappy girl](https://freezy-is-gay.tumblr.com/post/160365515241)
> 
> [OH SHIT VERSION 5](https://azahlea-valonir.tumblr.com/post/160362631012)


	19. Chapter 19

You couldn’t press mute on the world around you. You couldn’t pause the situation and even if you screwed your eyes shut tight until your head pinched, you couldn’t seal your eardrums until things were okay again.

Panic could be overwhelming. It demanded the utmost attention from every facet of the mind, until it dominated your thoughts and spread like wildfire through the body. From the twitching knees, to the rapidly entangling stomach, to the chest which seemed to tighten considerably as the molasses minutes dragged.

And lastly, panic did not, and would _never_ , allow for levelheadedness. Branch should know this by now. He should know that his emotions were having a nasty effect on his behaviour. He should know that a deep exhale and enough willpower to get a hold of himself, could give him a clearer perspective on the predicament. He should know that panic, the bitch that it could be at times, was currently playing him like the easily swayed, overthinking fiddle that he was.

The car came to a halt, parallel parked outside a coffee shop, that Branch had never considered as anything more than gaudy scenery. His inner monologue a clouded slur of _Not here, find her, gone, not here…_ paused, just long enough to inquire _What?_

The engine powered down and he heard the keys jangle as Gristle bunched them in his fist and unlocked the doors. Branch glanced up, slack jawed. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Gristle and Bridget said nothing but stepped out in perfect sync, right down to slamming their respective door by a split second.

“Did you hear me?” His voice was low, underlying aggression warning them of another tantrum. The third one since they left the flat. “Get back in the car.”

Bridget, tight lipped and chin high, opened the back door to address the temperamental man inside. A low hanging moon illuminated her face. “We’re going in, Branch.” She stated, soft but stern.

“No, we’re not.” He replied, straining to match her patient tone. “You. And Gristle. Are going to get back in the car and we’re going to find Poppy.”

“Branch, c’mon,” Gristle sighed as he rested a hand on Bridget’s shoulder. “We got a call from Biggie. This is where we’re _supposed_ to be right now.”

“Oh, is that it?” Branch felt his fingernails digging into his palms. “We’re _supposed_ to sit back and drink a fucking latte instead of looking for our missing friend? Great plan! Fucking fantastic! Why didn’t I think of it?”

“Hey, hey, we’re not just lazing around here, dude. Listen, Biggie said that we’re all to meet up here so we can split Bergen Town among us and cover more ground faster.” Gristle explained, hands up, eyebrows high, as if he were speaking to a child.

Unsurprisingly, being addressed in this manner did nothing to cool Branch’s boiling blood. Expression contorting in frustration, he opened his mouth to retort, only for Gristle to interrupt.

“And, and, _and_. Poppy’s friends have done a ton already, Branch. They’ve filled out the missing person report, they’ve gotten the police involved. Hell, I think they’ve covered half the city by now. They’ve been looking for her all this time while you were-”

Gristle’s babble came to a staggering halt, a hand flying over his mouth and his eyes popping wide, just as Branch shot a glare his way.

“While I was what, Gristle?”

“Branch,” Bridget muttered. “Let’s just go-”

“While I was black out drunk and sleeping like the fucking dead?! Yeah, I’m aware that I’ve been completely useless here. Maybe that’s why I actually want to get out there and find her right now!”

A single beat of silence, disturbed by Bridget lightly patting Gristle’s back and urging him away. “Go on inside. We’ll be there in a minute”

He nodded and made himself scarce.

Maybe the atmosphere tightened because the group’s optimist just left or maybe it was Branch’s paper-thin patience finally ripping in half.

“Well, fuck! Good job, Bridget. He’s gone with the keys.” He snapped, forcing a hand down on his buckle. He struggled for a moment, muttering obscenities before it clicked and he ripped his seatbelt off.

Bridget almost sighed in relief as Branch exited the car but as he stormed in the opposite direction, she released a panicked squeak and seized his arm. “W-Wai-wait, where are you going? We’re supposed to go in now,”

“Bridget, I don’t have time for this!”

“We’re gonna find her, Branch. We are! We just gotta go over-”

“I can find her myself.” He growled.

Bridget closed the space he set between them and in the moment of hesitation that prevented Branch from turning on his heel and bolting, she grabbed his elbows. He tried to tear the contact apart but she held on tight, murmuring a hushed “Listen, listen, just listen to me,” until he stopped trying to break away.

Branch pulled in a deep breath and Bridget nodded, satisfied with his composure.

“We won’t be long. I promise.” She said gently. “We gotta find you something to eat.”

“I don’t need something to-”

“Biggie said all you ate today was a mouthful of pizza.”

Branch tipped his head back, with an exasperated groan and a roll of his eyes. “Well, fuck, Bridget! Did Biggie tell you anything else? My birthday? My blood type? How about my math scores from eight grade? The man seems to be a Godly source of information right now, doesn’t he?”

Despite having spit his words out like piping water from a pot, Bridget was unruffled. Instead of withering, she gave her familiar little smile, identical to the many before it but lacking the essence of uncertainty.

“Branch.”

“What?” His tone was flat, feeling tired and defeated as she tugged him by the arm, the coffee shop “ingeniously” dubbed The Happy Tree, looming nearer.

“Stop being a bitch.” She said bluntly. “It won’t impress Poppy when we find her.”

“ _If_ we find her.” He thought aloud.

Bridget hastily shook her head. “ _When_.”

* * *

Back in Troll Town, Branch rarely had company. He didn’t exactly advertise his cheap little flat as public hotspot. But for the handful of guests that came knock knocking to check in on his wellbeing, (“Hey, kid. Are you still alive?”) Branch had grown accustomed to some uncomfortable squirming.

His old flat was not a pleasant environment. Of course, say what you will about the clutter, the damp smell or the scowling teenage boy who was urging you out with his eyes. But what really got people looking like they bit into a lemon, was the atmosphere. One step through the door and anyone could tell, this was where somebody spent a lot of time stewing in his own self inflected misery.

But Branch had always been the cause of the emotions he radiated. He had never experienced the feeling of stepping into a room and being punched in the gut with that sudden aura of undiluted negativity.

Until he and Bridget entered The Happy Tree and quite honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if some supernatural force had sucked out his soul right then and there. That had to be the case. Because it sure as Hell could not have been The Snack Pack keeping the place engulfed in gloom.

But as Branch edged cautiously into the dimly lit, almost vacant establishment, he found himself internally confirming the latter.

The coffee shop was not silent. Biggie prevented that, being the first person to catch Branch’s attention as he neared the group.

He was sobbing. Loudly. Hunched over a table, his large hands pressed to either side of his head as he clung to his hair, blubbering things Branch couldn’t make out. Gristle hovered over him, offering awkward words of comfort.

The latter spotted them immediately, his lips stretching into a pleading grimace. Gristle needed help.

With a questioning nudge from Bridget, Branch nodded and she quickly scurried off to assist her boyfriend, leaving him alone to survey the rest of the scene.

Smidge and Cooper looked to be joined at the hip, the tiny girl huddled against his side, with his arm wrapped securely around her in an embrace.

She was sipping hastily from a large ceramic mug, which she cradled tightly in both hands. Judging from the abandoned coffee sleeves which lay crushed and leaking on the floor beneath her, Smidge was having an issue controlling her iron grip.

Cooper’s face didn’t express much of anything. His head swayed faintly as he stared into open air, eyes hooded but wide awake, chest heaving with unsteady breaths. At some point, he had removed his hat and placed it on Smidge’s head. To his other side, lay his steaming beverage, seemingly forgotten in his daze.

The last time Branch saw Chenille, she had been wearing her glowing little smile as she spun a baffled but giddy Suki around the dance floor. The comparison to seeing the two of them now was… jarring.

They were settled in three chairs that had been scattered to the side, Chenille in the middle, one hand intertwined with her girlfriend’s and the other with her sister’s. The blood had drained from her bare face, features unwound in apathy.

Suki’s twitching fingers curled repeatedly around her already knotted headphone cord, struggling to keep her spare hand busy.

Guy Diamond was crouched below them, one hand on Satin’s knee to keep his balance, the other clutching his coffee. They all spoke in hushed tones, the subject of Guy’s murmuring evident by the softness in his expression.

Satin was nodding, nose scrunched up and eyes shut tight. Branch couldn’t figure out if she was irritated with whatever Guy was telling her, or if she was clinging to his words for dear life.

He hadn’t seen the Snack Pack in such a sombre state in years. An image of red eyed, sniffling children donned in black, flashed across his mind.

“Branch!”

He jumped, startled as Guy shot up and made a beeline towards him, briefly juggling his coffee between his hands in an effort not to drop it.

As his personal bubble popped and the reek of perspiration fumed in his face, Branch took an automatic step back.

Guy had removed his studded jacket, for once not leaving flecks of light dancing across the surrounding walls. His hair was dishevelled and he was in desperate need of a shower. Branch squinted, briefly scrutinizing his face to be certain that this was in fact, the same Guy Diamond who wouldn’t dare be seen in public without resembling an Instagram model.

“Heeeeey, so,” Yup. Definitely Guy. Who else would smile like an idiot while dealing with a missing friend? Not Branch anyway, whose sour expression had settled in stone, at the stupid look on Guy’s face.

“Been a crazy night, huh? You tired? We’re-we’re all tired…I-uh…here!” Guy thrust his beverage in Branch’s direction. “Have a coffee. It’ll help. Maybe wake you up.”

“Isn’t that yours?”

“Oh, damn, is it?!” Guy pulled the cup to his vision, incredulous. “O-oh, yeah, I got… this is… did I get this myself?” He scratched his head and shrugged. “Uh, well, I guess it is. But, uh, but you can still have it. Here,”

Raising an eyebrow at his odd behaviour, Branch took the offered drink and sipped, only to recoil at the pungent sweetness. Okay, he should have expected that.

“Hey, Guy!” Gristle called from across the room, as Bridget and Biggie exchanged condolences. “Do us a favour and feed Branch, will ya? We’re scared he’s gonna pass out if he doesn’t get something in his belly. Dude’s barely eaten today.”

_Snitches get stitches, Gristle._

“I’m not really that-woah!”

“On it!” Guy had already plucked him by the arm and was dragging him towards the counter.

The barista was a stout, middle-aged Bergen woman, wearing a pinstriped apron over what appeared to be, a fluffy pink dressing gown.

Guy turned to him expectantly. “Okay, Branch, what’ll it-?”

“Wait, why the fuck is this place even open?” Branch blurted out. His worry clouded mind momentarily cleared, just long enough to question this logic. It was the middle of the goddamn night.

The barista slammed her hands down on the counter and leaned forward, with a steely glare in his direction. Branch deduced that she probably didn’t care for his tone.

“I happen to know these kids, you mouthy shit. They come in every day. Good kids, they keep the place smilin’. The girl’s a sweetheart too. I like her a lot. _Maybe_ I wanna be of some help here. Give the kids a place to rest y’know? Make ‘em some coffee to calm ‘em down durin’ their breaks.”

“Okay, fine. Are you going to-?”

“I don’t know you!” The woman snapped, jabbing a finger at him. “Never seen you before in my life. Never a customer. Didn’t see you out huntin’ for the li’l girl with me n’ the rest of the kids either."

Guy raised his hand, attempting to cut through the woman’s tangent. “Wanda, Branch is-”

“Wanderin’ in off the street, hopin’ to get himself a coffee at this hour. Usin’ the girl disappearin’ as a way to mooch off-”

“He’s her roommate, Wanda. He lives with her.”

Wanda’s bluster buffered, just long enough for an irritated Branch to bite back.

“I didn’t ask for a fucking coffee either!” He hissed. “I didn’t ask for anything. I don’t even want to be here, woman. All I want to do is get out and look for-”

“The girl?!” Wanda scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, I believe that. Where the Hell you been all night, then?”

“Passed out and plastered.” Branch spat. “And I’m well aware of how fucking awful that makes me so I don’t need some seventy-year old lady-”

“I’m fifty-eight!” She said shrilly.

“-telling me shit I already know!”

“Branch, buddy,” Guy, yet again, attempted intervention with a light shake of Branch’s shoulder. “Stop yelling at Wanda, ‘kay?”

“Tell _her_ to stop yelling at _me!_ ”

“Tell _him_ to get the Hell out!”

“Fine!” Branch declared, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’d be fucking delighted to leave. Maybe I’ll actually make some progress on, fuck, I dunno, finding Poppy!”

“H-hey, or, or, _or!_ ” Guy Diamond seized his wrist to prevent him from leaving and Branch briefly considered how it would slow down his search progress if he were to say, rip Guy’s arm off.

_Okay, yeah. I might not get too much done from behind bars._

“We could all split up our routes right this minute and get back to looking! How’s that sound, Branch?”

He attempted to tug free of his grasp, only for Guy to hold on tightly with both hands, his broad grin never once wavering.

“Hey Wanda, give us a…a muffin? Sandwich? Anything edible? Please? And-uh-”

Branch pulled again. Guy struggled, his smile straining. “Hurry.”

Wanda lifted a glass cloche and carelessly tossed a stale croissant on the counter.

Guy took it gratefully, murmuring his thanks as he was dragged away by Branch, who was awkwardly trudging his way towards the exit.

“Woah, okay, buddy, hold up!”

“Guy, so help me God, I will break your fingers if you don’t let me go,”

“Branch-”

“And smash every fucking diamond ring!”

“Okay, now that’s a little harsh.”

“Really?!” Branch snapped, whipping around to face him, absolutely seething. “I never would have guessed. I’m clearly trying to be a ray of fucking sunshine right now!”

Guy Diamond opened his mouth, a question tying his brows together but Branch cut him off.

“Yes, that was sarcasm.” He deadpanned.

Guy clapped his mouth shut and nodded. Clearing his throat, he offered Branch the croissant.

With a long, suffering groan, He snatched it from Guy’s hand and took an extravagantly large bite. Branch turned to Gristle across the room, with his arms thrown out, his chewing resembling a gnashing animal. “Are you happy now?!” He called, voice muffled through a full mouth.

“He’s delighted, Branch,” Placing a hand on his shoulder, Guy urged Branch to face him. “Okay, we gotta go through some things. About Poppy, y’know.”

Fighting the urge to release another bitter reply, Branch inhaled deeply and nodded. “Alright. Go on.”

“Everyone has already told-” Guy paused, releasing an exasperated sigh before he perked up and continued. “ _Almost_ everyone has told us the last time they saw or heard from Poppy. It’s your turn now, man.”

Branch chewed his lip, briefly fidgeting with a stray thread on the hem of his jacket. “Phone call.” He said curtly. “She stayed at Suki’s last night. Called me at noon. That was…” He swallowed. “That was the last I heard from her.”

Guy leaned closer, eyed widened expectantly. “Aaaaand? Did she like…. imply that she was going anywhere or…?”

He wracked his brain for an acceptable answer but he found the only words resounding in his head were an endless loop of ‘Wow, I really love you.’ That one stupid little sentence could be considered the soundtrack of his mind as of late. Sweet of Poppy, it really was but goddammit, not helping right now.

Realizing that Guy Diamond’s eyes were set intently on him, Branch reddened, having a momentary heart attack before getting a hold of his sanity. The possibility of Guy reading his mind? Highly unlikely.

“I don’t really…. recall how half of that conversation went.”

Guy gave him a patient look. “Okaaaaay… well, then, talk about the half you _do_ remember.”

“I’d rather drop dead.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Branch’s hands, damp with sweat, rubbed unsubtly against his jeans before he hastily shoved them in his pockets. “Anyway, I’m guessing you’ve already searched the surrounding area of the last place you saw her? I mean, wherever she is, she can’t have gone far on foot.”

“She’s not on foot though,”

Branch raised a brow. “Um. What?”

Guy nodded. “Yeah, her car _was_ parked outside Suki’s since last night. It’s gone, Branch.”

His words got caught in his throat and he coughed disbelievingly. “S-so…”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,_

Branch strode past Guy, blinking repeatedly as what felt like a stone, dropped to the pit of his stomach. “So, she could be literally anywhere? Anywhere in the entire fucking city?!”

“Or farther,” Guy added.

A hand reached up to scrape back his hair, holding back a wince as he pulled too roughly against his roots.

“Hey, man. We’re gonna find her. Think of it this way,” Guy gave a bouncy shrug. “It’s late. At least she’s got somewhere to curl up and sleep.”

“Stop.”

“And heating too, so she won’t catch a cold!”

“Guy.”

“And maybe Wanda will still be around to make her the usual caramel Frappuccino and-”

“Guy, Poppy is _missing!_ Could you cool it on the optimistic shit for two fucking minutes?!” Branch shouted, practically lunging into the latter’s face.

Guy took a cautious step back. “Branch, listen, I know you’re upset-”

“Yeah! Yeah, I am but hey, it’s fine, it’s all perfectly fine because apparently you don’t give a shit! And I swear to God, I will slap that stupid smile off your face if you don’t take this seriously,”

“Who said I wasn’t taking this seriously?!” Guy exclaimed, looking thoroughly irked. “Branch, do you want everyone here to act like you? You _want_ the entire Snack pissed off, tired and miserable? _Somebody_ here has gotta keep their hopes up and guess what, asshole? Poppy’s not around to do it!”

A single beat of silence, proceeded by a grunt as Branch gave up the process of a retaliation and shoved the remains of his croissant into his mouth. Still restless and frustrated, his eyes settled elsewhere but a strong gaze caught his attention.

Upon further inspection, Branch noticed that Satin was indeed staring determinedly in their direction but not at him.

Guy was faced away from him, arms folded like a temper-mental toddler. Despite his irritation, Branch gave him a nudge and pointed the girl’s way, as he looked up.

Satin held out a hand, anxious face looking back pleadingly.

Guy’s tense shoulders loosened and with a deep inhale, he rehearsed a twitching smile.

“What does she want?” Branch questioned, cocking his head.

“Somebody to hold her other hand.” He replied. “What did I tell ya? They’re scared and worried enough already and they need to be told it’s gonna be okay.”

A jewellery clad hand once again, snatched Branch’s wrist and tugged him towards the group. “So, c’mon. Let’s give you a route to take.”

* * *

It was only when the entire group had huddled around a table, that Branch realized just how bizarre this whole situation was. Three months ago, he wouldn’t be caught dead willingly holding someone’s hand.

And now, here he was, one hand squeezed by a quivering Biggie and the other by a fidgeting Suki. He didn’t pull away and he didn’t squeeze back. Branch simply looked straight ahead, without a word to either of them.

Guy was right after all. Sometimes when you’re worried, you just need someone to hold on to.

_Okay, but maybe tell them how dirty your palms are, asshole._

One socially acceptable sentence at a time.

“Alright, sooo…” Guy’s gaze travelled down the list, his thumb clicking rapidly at the end of a pen. “Branch. You’re gonna take Eastwood Street. From that one Chinese restaurant to Bergen Town Museum”

Branch nodded. “Hey, uh… did any of you guys…?”

Every head turned to him, in polite attentiveness.

“The-the park. Bergen Town Park. The one with the bridge. You looked there, right?”

There was a collective babble of affirmation and a few hands gestured towards Cooper and Smidge.

“We looked there from top to bottom. We were kinda expecting her to be at the bridge.” Smidge muttered, looking disappointed of having to recount being faced with an empty park. “She really likes the ducks.”

Cooper sighed. “We were so sure too. That bridge is a special place for her ‘n all, so I was thinkin’-”

“Wait, what? Why?” Branch blurted out, instantly regretting how urgent his voice came across. He cleared his throat. “I mean… it’s just a bridge, right?”

Biggie hummed. “Well, it’s… it’s where she kissed Creek for the first time, isn’t it?”

There was a series of dismissal noises. Every Snack Pack girl (And Guy Diamond) shook their head in unison.

“If Poppy was at that bridge for anything, it would be the ducks,” Suki confirmed.

“She’s done with Creek.” Chenille added, with a flick of her wrist in a cutting motion.

Gristle released a hushed gasp. “Plot twist…”

“They’ve been broken up since yesterday,” Said Guy Diamond, briefly snapping his eyes down to check his phone. With no new messages in sight, he frowned. “Did she not tell you guys about that?”

“What?” Branch questioned, stunned. What the fuck had he missed? “Wait, are you sure-?”

“They didn’t break up yesterday, Guy.”

“Huh?”

Guy turned to Satin quizzically. “Yeah, they did. She told me she was-”

“She meant to but she couldn’t. She showed up at his flat and he was crying.”

“He was crying ‘cause he knew she was gonna dump him? What a piece of-”

“He didn’t know she was gonna dump him though,” Suki pointed out.

“Yes, he did!”

“No, he didn’t.”

“He did!” Guy insisted.

“Excuse me,” Branch attempted to be heard again. “But can somebody give me the right story because-”

“Nah, Poppy told us.” Smidge chimed in. “Creek had no idea what she was gonna do. She hadn’t told him. But she showed up to his place and-”

“And he was crying,” Said Guy under his breath, raising a hand to rub against his temple. “Oh, no. Oh my-” He stood, pacing a circle around the table. “Oh my God. I messed it up-”

“For fuck sake, guys! Did Creek and Poppy break up or not?!” Branch cut through impatiently.

“Branch, can you shut up a minute? I’m having a crisis here.”

“ _You’re_ having a-?!” Branch shot up, knocking his own chair in the process.

Bridget scampered to his side, but he ignored her.

“Guy, you are testing my fucking patience and I am seconds away from slapping you.”

Guy Diamond was not listening, having whipped out his phone and was now texting rapidly.

A sudden jingle and crash.

The overhanging entrance bell was knocked off the hinge, catching everyone’s attention.

“About time,” Guy uttered.

A panting Creek was stood in the doorway, looking exhausted and infuriated, his hand still pressed against the glass door which he had slammed open.

As if out of spite, Guy poked his thumb against his own phone screen.

Creek’s phone buzzed and he looked about ready to chuck the device at Guy’s head.

“You.”

“Nice of you to finally show up, gorgeous.”

In a matter of seconds, Creek tore across the coffee shop, and forced himself into Guy Diamond’s space, brandishing his phone like a weapon. “You don’t text me for _days_ , Guy. You were blatantly ignoring me, you stupid, childish, ridiculous-” He caught himself straying topic and took a deep breath.

“And when you finally bother to start up texting again, what do I get? ‘Is Poppy at your place, Creek?’” He raised his tone an octave in an imitation of Guy’s voice. “Like I’m the bloody Lost and Found!”

“Creek-”

“No ‘hello’ or ‘how are you?’ Not at all, because all Guy Diamond cares about is locating the nearest idiot to go shopping with him! Oh, oh, _oh_ ,”

Creek’s face stretched into a wide grin, which somehow displayed no joy whatever, as he made a show of holding up his phone and examining his recent texts. “Look at this! He’s started texting me _again_ ,” He looked up to fix Guy with a glare. “ _After_ I had gone to bed, that is.”

“Because I needed you-”

“Because you wanted me to suffer, didn’t you? Text after text, buzz, buzz, buzz. ‘Come to the Happy Tree Asap. Creek! Creek! Creek!’” He threw his arms out with a gesture to his surroundings before they dropped and slapped with emphasis, against his thighs. “Well, I’m here, Guy! I dragged myself out of bed to pacify you like the goddamn _saint_ that I am, so do you mind telling me what the bloody Hell you _want?!_ ”

The room dropped to a dead silence, the Snack Pack unapologetically gawking at the scene before them. None of them had seen Creek express anything stronger than mild irritation in years, let alone lash out in a sleep deprived outburst at one of his closest friends.

Frankly, even Branch felt a bit unsettled.

However, Guy did not appear surprised in the slightest, standing with a hand on his hip, until the last of Creek’s rant petered out.

“Well?!” Creek snapped.

“Oh, sorry. Soooo, you done?” Guy presented him with a smile, the epitome of passive aggressive. “You feel better now? You get that all out of your system, baby?”

Creek was thoroughly unamused. “Explain yourself.”

“Poppy’s missing, Creek.”

The reaction was instantaneous. The remaining colour drained from Creek’s already pale, tired face and his bottom lip opened and wobbled in an attempt to question. “Sh-she…” A strangled noise escaped from his throat as he struggled for something to say. “W-w… pardon…?”

“She’s missing.” Guy repeated.

“M-… she’s… she’s missing?”

“Creek, honestly. I explained this in the simplest terms I could.”

“You mean she’s not… around?” Creek turned to address the Snack Pack, alarmed. “N-none of you know where she is?”

“That’s what missing means, yes.” Smidge grunted.

“Oh…oh, yeah, that’s er…” Creek placed an unsteady hand atop his head and dragged it back as he exhaled. “That’s bad…”

“Very bad.” Guy confirmed tightly, looking as though his patience was slowly evaporating.

“So, we’re all going out to look for her, right? That’s why you called me here?”

“Well, duh!” Suki jutted her chin out, wearing an obvious look. “But Creek, dude, first you gotta tell us what went down.”

There was a moment where everyone had to endure Creek’s blank stare before he regained himself. He chuckled, an uneasy sound. “What went….er… what do you mean exactly?” He asked lightly, striding across the room.

“You know damn well what she means.” Guy was trailing after him, as if keeping their distance even for a minute, would allow Creek to slink away. “What did you say to Poppy?”

Creek turned to face him, wide eyed expression morphing into one of offense. “You’re just going to _assume_ she’s gone because of something I said?”

“She was last seen at your apartment.”

“Yeah, well, how do you know she wasn’t abducted?”

Guy shook his head. “Not likely.”

“She was with us,” Chenille spoke up, gesturing to the girls. “We had sat down for lunch at that one diner place-”

“The one just two doors down from _your_ apartment complex,” Satin interrupted, tone accusatory as he stared Creek down.

“You said you saw her leave your flat, right?” Smidge asked.

Creek nodded dumbly.

“Well, knowing Poppy,” Suki continued. “You’d think she would at least, have stopped by to tell us before she headed to the other end of Bergen Town to grab her car. Also, why did she need to get her car in the first place? You’d also think if Poppy was in her usual Poppy state, she wouldn’t have ditched us like that.”

“Unless someone upset her,” The twins said in unison.

Cooper whistled lowly. “Wow, did you guys rehearse that whole thing or-?”

“Tell us what happened, Creek.” Guy ordered.

Creek took another step back, clearly on the defence. “Look, nothing happened! Wh-whatever reason Poppy had to run away, I-I don’t know. I had nothing to do with it, she didn’t say anything-”

“If nothing happened than why won’t you tell us?!”

“Because it’s a waste of time! Are we going to get out and find Poppy or-?”

“TELL US WHAT HAPPENED!” Branch roared, a pair of fists colliding with the rickety coffee table.

Creek jumped, everyone jumped. They had been content to just let Branch stew quietly in a corner.

“IF YOU’RE THE REASON POPPY’S GONE, I WANT TO HEAR THE FUCKING EXPLANATION!”

Despite wincing slightly at the booming noise, Creek was unperturbed. He gave Branch a scrutinizing once-over before turning to the rest of the Snack Pack. “Has he been causing you problems? He’s not very good at handling his emotions and I feel as though he should sit this one-?”

“Continue that sentence and I will break your legs!”

“Creek, for God’s sake,” Guy Diamond groaned. “You’re a liar. _I know_ you’re a liar so there’s absolutely no reason for me to trust that you had nothing to do with this.”

Creek laughed airily. “Alright, Guy, but you don’t have anything to prove-”

“You knew it was coming.” Guy said sharply. “You knew she was gonna dump you but you guilted her out of it.”

He scoffed and glanced pointedly at the group before leaning, almost teasingly into Guy’s face. “How would I know that?”

Guy licked his lip, eyes lowering to the floor before he sighed, defeated. “Because I have a big mouth.” He mumbled.

Creek’s smile dropped.

“And I told you. I told you over the phone while Poppy was on her way to your place.” Guy turned to the rest of the Snack Pack. “Creek convincing Poppy not to dump him is…is probably more my fault than anything…”

“So, I _do_ have a good reason to slap you.” Branch snarled.

Bridget’s fingers curled around his arm the moment the words left his mouth.

_Am I a fucking dog to you?_

“Um, well,” Biggie said quietly. “I-I-I don’t think it really matters what’s anyone’s fault right now.”

“Exactly,” Satin was quick to agree. “If we could just get a run down from Creek and move on, that would be great.”

“And why are you all so sure you need a run down from me?”

“Because Guy just called you out as a liar!” Chenille exclaimed. “I see no reason why we _wouldn’t_ need to hear the truth from you.”

Allowing an eyebrow to twitch, Creek approached the twins and popping a hand on his hip, squinted down at them. “I’m sorry, I really am. Not that I don’t love both of you girls dearly but don’t you think your contributions here are a little… unnecessary?”

“Are you calling them stupid?!” Suki asked incredulously.

Creek shook his head innocently. “No, I’m just saying that maybe that in urgent times such as these, they keep their mind on the matter at hand, instead of getting hung up on trivial details and _maybe_ -!” He snapped his gaze towards Suki. “You shouldn’t jump to the conclusion that I’m calling anyone anything. I know your ears are probably ringing from hearing your own voice but you could always try thinking before you speak.”

There was a violent scuffle of high heels and clattering bracelets as Chenille threw herself forward, hand raised high, before her sister snatched her shoulders and pulled her back, shoving her Suki’s way.

Satin tilted her chin upwards and looked to Creek with folded arms and unwavering eyes. “You’re not throwing insults around without good reason. I know what you’re doing and we’re not getting side-tracked here. Just tell us what happened, Creek.”

“You know what I’m-?” Creek cut himself off, with a disbelieving laugh. “Satin.” He raised his fingertips and plucked against the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t honestly know how you can say you understand my reasoning if you can’t even understand my correct measurements.” With that, he smiled and in a manner that radiated condescension, propped a hand on her head and ruffled her hair.

“Okay!” Said a voice as biting as November air. Guy Diamond stormed towards him so fast, Creek staggered back as if he were about to be headbutted. Teeth clenched and eyes glowering, Guy shot a finger at the chair behind Creek. “Sit.” He barked.

Creek’s little smirk seeped into place but before he could let another silky sentence loose, Guy held up a fist, heavy jewels glimmering under the light.

“A punch would be unpleasant.” He stated, tone chillingly calm. “But imagine getting punched by knuckles decked out in diamond rings.”

Branch caught the Snack Pack exchanging glances. Huh, so this was as weird to them as it was to him.

“Creek.” Said Guy. “Sit the fuck down.”

Creek sat the fuck down.

There was a moment where the shock hung in the air but once it settled, the group allowed themselves the lightest chuckles, to help with the tension.

Satin walked around Guy, peering down at Creek. “At least you got him to shut up.” She commented approvingly.

“Does that mean he’s gonna tell us now?” Asked Cooper.

Branch scoffed. “Okay, so maybe Guy just got Creek to piss himself but how the Hell are we going to get an honest recount out of him? He’s still a liar, right? You know what, I’m just going to leave now. I really gotta find-”

“He’ll tell us the truth, Branch.” Said Guy quietly.

Branch, heading towards the exit, turned in curiosity. “How are you going to get the story out of this slimy asshole? You never know if what he says will be true.”

Creek glanced between the two, an eyebrow raised. “Honestly, Guy, I have to wonder that myself. Not that your faith in me isn’t flattering but-”

Guy dropped to a crouch and settled by Creek’s chair, so they could speak at eye level. “I know you’re going to tell the truth because I’m asking you to, as nicely as I can. Please, Creek.”

Branch slapped his forehead. This was a waste of time.

Creek scratched his leg uncomfortably.

“And also,” Guy added, paying close attention to the way he fidgeted. “How many times have you let me down at this point?”

Creek didn’t answer, his eyes straying elsewhere.

“Buuuut you don’t wanna do it again. You don’t wanna let me down. I know you don’t. Because you’re a friend and what friend would want that? So.” Guy wriggled, fighting for eye contact. Once he managed it, Creek swallowed, as if not breaking his gaze was a challenge. “Are you gonna tell the truth?”

What occurred next was, what looked to be a staring contest. A contest that Guy soon won, judging by the way Creek suddenly shoved him back by the forehead.

The Snack Pack waited, Bridget and Gristle waited, Guy Diamond waited. Even Branch, who lingered in the doorway, waited.

Creek stared around cautiously, like an animal under study. His eyes were guarded but every so often, they caught a flicker of panic. Finally, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion and he released a sigh.

“Everybody pull up a chair.”

* * *

 Nobody doubted Creek’s story. Unless his intention was to alienate his entire friend group, there was no way anything he told was a lie.

He didn’t sugar-coat a word but solemnly recounted his and Poppy’s last exchange in acidic detail, expression blank, voice monotonous.

Minutes into Creek’s narrative, several Snack Pack faces withered in scorn. Hands flew over mouths, over uneasy stomachs. Light gasps, sounds of disgust and utter contempt for the storyteller, filled the air.

Whatever positive opinion his remaining friends had formed of him over the years, had been ground up into unsalvageable dust.

But once he was done, there was not a single trace of uncertainty. Creek was the reason Poppy was gone.

And that did fact not sit well with anyone.

Especially Branch.

In hindsight, he may have lost his common sense and main objective. But even if momentary, the intention of finding Poppy was drowned out, with an overwhelmingly vicious desire to grab hold of Creek and start ripping him apart.

This sudden rushing urge for graphic violence, may have been what kicked the Snack Pack into what one may call ‘Disarray.’

Bridget, Gristle, Biggie and Guy Diamond acted as a hivemind, all jumping to grab at Branch as his remaining filter snapped. Branch was yelling, Branch was _screaming_ , unholy, bloody murder exploding from his throat as he thrashed in their grip, like a raging bull.

He wasn’t the only one who had raised his voice. Satin, Chenille and Suki were shrieking at Creek. Smidge was booming out demands for Cooper to release her so she could commit equally brutal acts. Even those holding him back, were shouting out pleas for him to calm down. The Happy Tree was plunged into a head splitting state.

But goddammit, Branch would be the loudest one in the room if it killed him. He was practically tearing up his tonsils in order to be heard. He wanted Creek to either hear his words or have his eardrum blown out in the process.

“YOU USED HER! YOU FUCKING USED HER, YOU SHITTY, SLIMY, GREEDY-”

“Branch, that’s enough!”

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THAT STUPID BELL MEANT TO HER?! WHAT IT MEANT TO HER FAMILY, YOU SELFISH FUCKING PIECE OF ROADKILL?!”

“Branch, Eastwood Street, c’mon!” Gristle shouted.

“SHE’S NOT STUPID, SHE’S NOT ANYTHING THAT YOU CALLED HER BUT NOW SH-SHE’S GONNA THINK SHE IS! SHE’S GONNA THINK SHE’S ALL THOSE THINGS BECAUSE SOME FUCKING PRETENTIOUS HIPPIE GOES AND FUCKS UP HER HEAD! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! ALL OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”

Creek was having difficulty maintaining his composure. He was still seated stiffly, his hands clasped together in his lap, absorbing his berating as gracefully as he could. He was silent, for once appearing to understand that even a word to defend his actions, would be a wasted breath.

“LET! ME! GO!” Branch thundered, seconds away from pulling off someone’s limb.

“Listen! Could you just-?” Guy tried desperately to settle him, his voice staggering as Branch bucked and tugged. “Just listen to me! Forget him! You wanted to find her didn’t you, so why don’t we-?”

“We wouldn’t have to find her in the first place,” Branch’s voice dropped to a hardline murmur. “If _he_ hadn’t done what he did.”

“Alright, alright. I know. I know it’s bad but we need to move on-”

“And you helped.”

Guy’s words stumbled, his open mouth still floundering for something to say. “I-I...”

“You said yourself that was this your fault. If you hadn’t have told him, none of this-”

“Yes, yes! Okay, I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have answered my goddamn phone in the first place.”

“Phone…” Creek mumbled thoughtfully, seeming to have long since zoned out of the twins' lecture.

“Well, you did!” Branch snapped. “And look where it got us.”

“Listen, I didn’t…” Guy swallowed. “I didn’t mean for him to… I didn’t think he was gonna do that, Branch! I didn’t know, I wasn’t thinking and…I’m sorry”

“Wait a minute…” Creek seemed to be thinking aloud at this point. He fished around in his pocket for his phone.

“You’re sorry?" Branch chuckled humourlessly. "Well, fucking fantastic, Guy, but sorry isn’t going to do shit for us right now, is it?”

For a moment, Guy struggled to reply, until he gave up altogether. He shook his bowed head.

Branch, teeth still clenched, waited for him to say something, _anything_. His aggravation was fuelling every thought and he needed to let it out somehow.

_Say something stupid again, make my fucking day._

But what Branch got instead, was not stupid at all. In fact, now that he thought about it, what he got was pretty damn justified.

“I’m worried about her too,” Guy croaked. He lifted his head and Branch felt his heart sink.

Oh no.

Gleaming green eyes were welling up rapidly and once he blinked, tears flecked his lashes. With one shuddering sob, Guy Diamond broke down. Shoulders heaved, his tight gasps shook and his hands wiped desperately at damp cheeks until they were a vivid ruby.

_Well, congratulations, dumbass. As if you haven’t done enough shit today. Now you’ve gone and made a dude cry._

The respective conversations that had evolved among the Snack Pack, all came to a sudden halt at the sound of Guy’s hyperventilating and the two were crowded immediately, the twins attaching themselves to Guy’s sides like a pair of magnets.

A concerned chatter broke loose, only disrupted by an exasperated “Oh my God!”

Creek stood up, phone in hand, and joined the group, wedging himself between Branch and Guy. With a wide eyed, frantic gesture from one to the other, his gaze locked firmly on Branch. “What the Hell did you do that for?! You were mad at me, weren’t you? Will you just pick a fight with anyone who stands still long enough? This isn’t Guy’s fault, you hot-headed idiot!”

Branch had a lot to say to Creek. He had a lot to yell at Creek. But in that moment, Branch found himself with nothing but a submissive reply to the stupid hippie’s chastising. “Yeah, I know. It’s…it’s not his fault.”

Creek barely considered his answer but instead turned to Guy. His eyebrows shot up, visibly startled at seeing a tear streaked face up close. He held out a steady, cautious hand and while he seemed unable to talk at first, Creek eventually managed a soft “Stop.” And then, he seemed to regain his speech. “J-just stop. Stop crying. You don’t need to cry. There’s no reason for you to cry.”

“I know!” Guy wheezed, irritation evident in his breathless voice. He was rubbing his face, fighting to keep his lips from quivering.

“I-…er…” Creek’s raised hand hovered uncertainly before it dropped and he glanced around for help. “Biggie, mate... do your thing?”

Biggie nodded, shuffling forward and placing a hand on Guy’s shoulder and in a split second, Guy had whipped around and dissolved into Biggie’s tight embrace.

“I’m sorry.” Branch uttered.

Guy mumbled something muffled against Biggie’s chest.

Biggie turned to Branch with a reassuring nod. “He forgives you.”

_Why?_

“Now,” Creek spoke up to get everyone’s attention. “I have some good news.”

“You’re gonna turn on your heel and march right out that door, never to return?” Smidge snarked.

“Yes, actually.” Creek answered, blatantly ignoring the attitude. “Because we don’t need to continue the search. I’ve found Poppy.”

The room erupted in a chorus of disbelieving replies, which Creek gracefully waved off. “I did! I’ve found her!”

“That’s impossible. You only learned Poppy’s was missing like fifteen minutes ago. How the fuck could you-?” Branch stopped dead, as his eyes snapped down to linger on Creek’s phone screen. “Tracker.” He whispered.

It took a moment but his quiet shock soon fired into outrage. “You had a fucking tracker the whole time?! And you didn’t say a fucking-!”

“I didn’t know! I forgot! I honestly forgot!” Creek hurried out, hands up at his own defence.

Branch scoffed disbelievingly. “You _forgot_ you had your girlfriend bugged?”

“Yes! I only had the tracker for when I needed to know where she was. I couldn’t give a toss what the girl did in her spare time. Now, just let me-hey!”

In one swift motion, Branch snatched the phone out of Creek’s hand.

He was piled on instantly, several heads peering over his shoulders, Cooper even leaning down from over Branch’s head.

“Weeeeeeelll…?” He drawled.

“Where is she?” Piped up an impatient Gristle.

But in the very moment he spotted the little gliding red dot representing Poppy’s phone, Branch felt a wash of relief, mixed with the very striking thought of _Why the fuck didn’t didn’t you figure this out sooner, idiot?_

“She’s on the freeway.” Branch said, dazed.

Having been supplied with a confirmed destination, the tension that hung in the air eased considerably.

“When… when she called me today she said…. she said that she really missed her Dad.”

“She’s going home.” Said a small whispery voice and Branch almost jumped. He had forgotten Bridget was still here.

“So, I guess we’re headin’ out, then?” Suki asked, propping an elbow to rest against her girlfriend’s shoulder. “We’re gonna go after her, right?”

Suffice to say, the Snack Pack bounced back fast.

Chenille snapped her fingers. “Cake.” She said sharply. “Cooper, you said something about baking a vanilla buttercream cake today. Did you get around to it?”

“Yeah?” Cooper raised an eyebrow. “It’s at home. Whatcha need it for?”

“For Poppy, dummy,” Smidge lightly poked his stomach. “We’re gonna show up and cheer her up with cake.”

“Oh, oh, oh,” Biggie joined in excitedly. “If Suki brings her boombox, we’ll have music too!”

Satin hummed. “And I’m sure we have some cupcakes left over from the last party.”

“And I’ve still got that portable disco ball in my car!” Guy Diamond was bobbing his spot, tears having since subsided.

Suki released a disbelieving laugh. “Are you saying we’re really gonna drive all the way to Troll Town and throw a spontaneous party at this hour?”

Cooper shrugged. “Why the Hell not?”

And before Branch could even process the situation, the Snack Pack were rapid fire plotting, throwing out terms and lingo he had never heard in his life. Yet strangely enough, no one else was struggling. This weird second language seemed to come naturally to them as they tossed ideas back and forth with nodding heads and sounds of agreement, eerily in sync.

_They’ve been planning parties since preschool. With all those cupcakes and streamers, you would have lost your mind too._

Branch opened his mouth, not even certain what he was going to say but something along the lines of ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ before another voice layered over his own.

“Okay, no. You’re all being ridiculous.”

As if Creek wasn’t on thin ice already, his comment led to seven glares shot his way. He was nonplussed, arms folded loosely, back straight as he took them in with an easy expression.

“Why are you still here?” Smidge grumbled.

“Oh, believe me. I’ll be right out the door in a few minutes but first, I’d just like to share my opinion.”

“Again?” Branch snarked automatically.

A familiar snigger rose within the Snack Pack.

Branch took a step back, knees buckling faintly as a memory appeared in vivid detail. The Snack Pack, as he had once saw them. Loud, ditzy but judgemental to the core. But somehow, he could never see that image without Creek standing before them, smiling without a care in the world.

Creek had used this group as a way to knock Branch down. All Eyes genuinely innocent but unintentionally weaponized against him. He had been so afraid of those eyes. They either left him paralyzed or plucked at his psyche until he lashed out.

But now, they had iced over one person. The one person who nudged them forward in the first place. And without Creek ‘lightheartedly’ poking fun at him to get a reaction, Branch had no reason to fear the Snack Packs’ eyes. They were good people. He figured that out a while ago, but damn, it just hit him. It was liberating.

“Listen,” Creek continued patiently. “Whatever you’re planning on doing. The party or whatever, don’t you think… it’s a bit much?”

Guy threw his head back, personally offended by that comment. “Well, yeah! Our parties are _always_ a bit much! That’s kinda how we handle things, Creek.”

“Well, yeah I know that but… for Poppy, I mean.”

“Poppy loves over the top!” Suki countered.

“But now? When she’s as upset as she is?”

“And why is she upset, Creek?” Branch asked, with an air of innocent curiosity.

Creek replied to him with nothing but an irritated look before carrying on. “I’m just saying that Poppy’s been through a lot today-”

“Because of what you-!”

“Yes, yes, I know! I know!” Squeezing his eyes shut to regain his patience, he inhaled a steadying breath. “But in the state she’s in right now, don’t you think everyone showing up demanding to party will be a bit… of an overload?”

The pin finally dropped and Branch watched as all the giddiness in the atmosphere promptly evaporated.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t try planning a party to cheer her up but… do it tomorrow. Once she’s had time to breathe and calm down.”

“Well, what are we going to do then?” Biggie inquired. “If all of us showing up will be too much, then how are going to make her happy again? She’s hurting right now…”

Creek sighed, looking almost exasperated. “Is it not obvious what you should to?” His open palm shot outward like he was introducing a secret weapon.

Branch stared blankly at the gesture thrown his way. “What?”

“Send the hot-headed dunce we all know and tolerate.”

“What, send Branch?” Satin tilted her head, baffled. “On his own?”

Creek nodded. “Believe me, if there’s anyone Poppy will be _delighted_ to see, it’s him.”

“You know I’m standing right here? I’m present. Anyone here want to talk _to_ me and not about me?”

“Dude, he just made Guy cry.” Cooper bluntly stated. “Are we really gonna send him to deal with-ooph!”

He was cut off by a pair of actions at once. A stern “Hush!” from Biggie and Smidge knocking a fist against his side.

“Well, alright, I can understand that.” said Creek reasonably. “But honestly, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem here. Branch is going to go out of his way to be gentle with her.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Smidge questioned.

Creek rolled his eyes. “Have none of you people noticed it yet? None of you at all? You’re telling me you’re all as unobservant as a loaf of bread?”

His response only came in the form of seven blank faces, blinking in confusion.

“Fine, fine. I’ll put it in simple terms. Branch-” He motioned towards the man in question, who was steadily growing more frustrated by the second.

“-is in love with Poppy.” Creek said, clear and slow.

A moment of silence. This may as well be Branch’s funeral because he felt as good as dead.

_Okay, hear me out. Throw yourself out the window and bolt._

No. Wanda struck him as a very capable woman who could probably kick his ass if he broke her window.

Instead, Branch shuffled uncomfortably, struggling to keep his breathing even as a rush of heat crept up his neck. Okay, so maybe he was still slightly scared of the Snack Packs’ eyes. He wasn’t even looking up but he could still feel every pupil locked his way.

It was Cooper that spoke first. “Uhhh…for real?”

Branch’s tongue played around for an appropriate answer, debating whether he wanted to deny it or not. But Hell, he was planning on telling Poppy anyway. Odds are the Snack Pack would learn eventually. So, he should say something. Put words together. Tell them yes. Say the word Yes.

A strangled noise erupted from his throat and Branch gave up, settling for a weak nod.

This was enough for Suki. Whooping enthusiastically and startling Chenille in the process, she spun around to face the rest of the girls, arms thrown victoriously in the air. “What did I say?!”

“Hey, hey, woah!” Gristle exclaimed, absolutely scandalized. “Creek, dude! What are you doing? You can’t just go around yappin’ about another man’s-”

“Gristle, I just groomed an innocent woman for months, to obtain her family heirloom, which I then sold for a down payment before promptly breaking her heart and spirit.” Creek thoroughly replied, tone as dry as sandpaper. “Are you really surprised?”

Gristle’s mouth hung open like a green haired goldfish before he snapped it shut. “W-well, yeah, I guess but b-but don’t go talking about the F.B Blue thing! That’s a secret and you know it!”

Branch wondered, totally hypothetically, how mad Bridget would be if he murdered her boyfriend.

“Branch, buddy, you don’t gotta glare like that. It’s okay, I handled it. Creek won’t be spilling any more of your secrets.”

“Thank you, Gristle.” He ground out.

“You’re welcome, dude!”

“Honey, honey, no.” Bridget took Gristle by the arm and gently pulled him back.

“Wait.” Satin spoke up, grasping at straws to understand. “F.B-…okay. So, Branch _does_ like Poppy. I guess I can believe that-”

“I believed it before she did!” Suki beamed.

“Anyway, one step at a time. What does F.B Blue have to do with this?”

Creek rolled his eyes. “Are you dense?”

“Watch it.” Guy muttered.

“It’s Branch, Satin. Branch _is_ F.B Blue. All those poems you read with your morning coffee? He wrote them. He’s quite an eloquent man, believe it or not.” A foreboding little smirk animated Creek’s lips. “Now, how about we all just recollect some of his most beautiful works.”

Branch glowered, immediately jumping on board Creek’s unspoken challenge. He wouldn’t flinch.

“So, remember that one where he compares the young lady’s smile to a sunset-”

“Okay, okay! That’s enough!” Branch broke at once, hands waving frantically and scrabbling to get the words out. “Y-you can shut up now, asshole.”

_You’re a weak bitch, you know that?_

“F.B…” Biggie murmured.

“F.B!” Guy shrieked.

“F.B! Fucking…” Smidge burrowed her forehead into her fists. “How the fuck did nobody notice that?!”

Creek shrugged. “I mean, he hasn’t used his first name in years, so it was likely to slip under the radar.”

“Oh my God,” Satin slapped both hands over her mouth, the corners of lips visibly twitching in a smile. “Does that mean… the girl in those poems… the one he always just made out to be so warm a-and pretty and sweet, she’s…”

“Awwwwwwwwww!” Guy and Biggie cooed as one, absolutely enamoured with this concept.

“I will cry.” Stated Guy. “Branch is going to make me cry twice in the one day. I can’t believe this.”

Biggie was one step ahead and already crying. “He just loves her so much, this is adorable…”

_Are you there, God? It’s me, that kid you don’t like. Quick question, do you know how to teleport people out of uncomfortable situations? Preferably to Troll Town._

“Waaaaaait,” Suki dragged out, popping her forefinger in the air. “Does that mean that… Chenille?”

The girl in question had broken away from Suki and the rest. She walked briskly towards Branch, arms tucked neatly behind her back. Chin tilted high and expression cool, she recited in a delicate voice. “Open your heart, unlock your soul…”

Branch raised an eyebrow. “Tell her the truth before you’re too old?”

Chenille nodded eagerly and her face melted into a sunny smile. Before Branch could even blink, she pounced, throwing her arms around him.

It was mere seconds before Suki squealed in realization and shot forward to join her, knocking the wind out of Branch. And then, with a hollered “Hug Time!” from Cooper, he was swarmed.

Branch let loose a startled shout, but tried not to protest as the Snack Pack practically dog piled him. They had been through a lot tonight. He didn’t know who was hugging what but Cooper’s dreads were in his face, Smidge was wrapped around his torso and Bridget had attached herself to his shoulder. Everyone babbled their usual sugary sweetness and Branch could only smile awkwardly at whoever made eye contact.

The entrance door slammed shut, catching his attention. Creek’s turquoise hair lingered a second behind the glass before he walked away.

_Goddamn, we need to think about making an exit too._

“Uh, alright!” Branch raised his voice. “That’s-that’s enough hug time! I-I need-” With all the remaining strength this batshit day had let him keep, he forced his way out of the Snack Pack encasement, before finally breaking free. “Okay, I just gotta-ow! Okay, somebody slapped my ass and we’re going to pretend that didn’t happen. Anyway,”

He cleared his throat as the group untangled themselves, the occasional lazy slung arms and hand holding remaining in the aftermath. “I’m… I’m going to go find Poppy now. So, I, uh, I need to borrow someone's car."

"Here, buddy!" Gristle tossed his keys his way.

"Thanks, Gristle."

"W-was that sarcasm again?"

"No, Gristle."

"Cool."

Branch turned to the Snack Pack. "You guys… well, you need to get some sleep. It’s late.”

Chenille scoffed. “You think any of us are going to catch a wink until we hear you found her?”

“Okay, fine. Add me to a group or something and I’ll text you when I do.”

Satin was already on the job, the sterilized light of her phone screen straining her tired eyes.

“So, clean up the coffee and stuff and maybe lock up as soon as you can and, uh…” Branch pointed to the snoring barista, hunched over the counter. “Can somebody get Wanda home safe? Sleeping like that is going to mess up her back.”

Cooper gave a thumbs up. “Okay, so…” Branch glanced about for any more matters to address. His eyes settled on Guy Diamond and he felt another rush of guilt. “I-I really am sorry. I know you didn’t-”

Guy shook his head, green eyes as dry and carefree as ever. “You handled it in a really stupid way but you were angry and upset and-” He paused, before emitting a tiny gasp. “No, no, wait, I take it back. I don’t forgive you!” Guy announced, with a wide grin.

Branch’s shoulders slumped, not sure if he should feel disappointed or thoroughly puzzled. “You…you don’t-?”

“But if you do one favour for me, just _oooooooone_ itsy bitsy favour, I promise I’ll forgive you,”

“Uh.” Branch glanced at the twins. They shrugged. “Okay?”

Guy was bouncing in place. “You gotta tell promise to tell Poppy you looooooove her!” He sing-songed.

It was like getting shoved back thirteen years and Branch could practically envision the swing set and hopscotch court as the Snack Pack Oooooooohed, like a first grade chorus. Honestly, could they be any more childish? It’s not like this kind of thing actually embarrassed anyone anymore.

“Your face is really red.” Guy chuckled.

_Motherfucker._

“Okay, anyway,” Branch said loudly, rolling his eyes at the sniggers as he made his way towards the exit. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you… tomorrow? If you’re still planning that party for Poppy?”

“Wait, you mean you’re gonna come?” Suki questioned, pleasantly surprised.

“I… probably.”

“So, you’ll text us when you find her right?” Satin called as Branch pulled the door open.

“I will.”

“And you’ll text us when you tell her you love her?” asked Guy hopefully.

Though there was a second of hesitation, Branch eventually turned to face them again. “I’ll text you…” He swallowed, a damp hand slipping into his jean pocket. Grey Branch crinkled. “When I tell her I love her.”

Bridget laughed, a soft, breathy sound. “ _If_ you tell her you love her.”

Branch smiled, hovering a moment in the open doorway. He shook his head. “ _When_.”

* * *

With the rush of commotion, the panic, the people and the rapidly shifting emotions that shot up and dropped like they were on a trampoline from Hell, Branch could find the time to appreciate the silence. Of course, he could. He had nothing _but_ time.

There was a certain otherworldly kind of peace that he got from driving on an otherwise vacant road, in the dead of night. Soothing darkness, the low growl of the car and a quiet place to think.

But once the blissful minutes stretched into less than blissful hours, being left alone with his own thoughts grew to be as dangerous as it usually was. At least at this point, Branch was conditioned to ignoring the usual nonsense.

_Turn the Hell around. Go home._

Nope. Not doing that. Need to find Poppy.

_She’s going to see her Dad. Y’know, the guy she actually needs right now? He can help her, you can’t._

Well, fair point. But he still needed to apologize for hanging up on her.

_And what if she doesn’t forgive you?_

Branch’s internal retort wavered. He chewed his bottom lip and pointlessly adjusted his rear-view mirror.

Well, then. If she didn’t forgive him, then… then, she just didn’t. It was simple as that. But that didn’t matter. Regardless of whether Poppy could still see him as a friend after all this, Branch still needed to apologize. That was unquestionable.

What was he even going to say to her? What was she going to say to him? But no, wait. What the Hell was he thinking? Poppy wouldn’t care about an apology from him right now. She just lost her fucking bell. She just got backstabbed by her fucking boyfriend. Odds are she’s going to have some other stuff on her mind.

But then… what can he say to that? Should he try to help her with that? Could he help her with that? Wait, no, fuck. What was he doing? Going after her was a terrible idea!

_Get a hold of yourself, idiot, this is something you have to do!_

Okay, whose side was his internal monologue on? Because quite frankly, it was a morally ambiguous character in its own right and Branch really needed to get it checked out.

Pulling in a deep breath to steady his haywire mind, he turned on the radio and his ears were instantly struck by the very sound that he really did _not_ need to hear right now.

_“-I see your truuuuueee colooooors and that’s why I love yooooouuu”_

Cyndi Lauper warbled through the speaker, reminding him of every time Poppy’s phone rang, every time she pestered him to sing, every time she strummed her guitar, radiant smile in place, every time she did… well, just about anything. With Cyndi Lauper, came Poppy. Just Poppy. In his head. Again.

He missed her.

His headlights revealed a series of familiar countryside turns and once he passed the one tree that sort of resembled a Tyrannosaurus Rex if you squinted _just_ right, Branch sighed with relief. He had reached home.

‘Welcome to Troll Town’ was a sign he had been looking at since he was an infant. A large, dull newsprint looking board, only brightened up by years worth of cheery Troll Town-esque graffiti that nobody bothered to wipe clean.

If Branch had to take a wild guess, he would assume Mayor Peppy was responsible for that. The man did not seem like the type who could bring himself to erase any child’s drawing. Something about nurturing creativity. Branch’s lips twitched into an amused smirk, at the thought.

Damn, he was glad Poppy was going to somebody like her Dad.

As the sign loomed nearer, Branch’s eyes skimmed ahead. He had seen that sign to death and he had no need to see it again.

He passed the sign, a blur of pink flashing out of the corner of his eye.

Branch continued driving.

The image registered.

And good God, he was lucky he didn’t crash the fucking car.

He acted hastily, as if worried she would disappear, reversing the car and slowly pulling up by the sign. Branch squinted, disbelieving but hopeful.

He spotted her car at once. Pulled in, parked and abandoned. Its owner was elsewhere.

Bathed in the blinding white of his headlights, she was huddled under the sign, her back pressed against the thick steel pole and her knees locked to her chest.

Branch scrabbled for his phone and hurriedly thumbed in a simple but reassuring message to the newfound group chat. _‘Found her’_

His responses buzzed immediately but Branch didn’t read them. He placed his phone down on the dashboard and before his mind, heart or soul, could paralyze him any further, he opened the car door and stepped out.

Branch crunched across the grass and Poppy watched him silently. As he drew closer, the image of her cleared, distinguishable in the moonlight.

Everything about Poppy in that moment was to be expected. Hell, the very notion of her in tears had been burned into the forefront of his mind upon hearing Creek’s story. But seeing it brought to life, was like a dream. Or a nightmare. Or those hazy inbetweeners that left him feeling confused and angry with himself.

But while Branch had predicted hysterical sobbing, it hit him like a punch in the stomach that he was over an hour late.

Red rimmed eyes and tear trails straining her cheeks, but a face of stone and not a sniffle to be heard. Poppy had long since cried herself out.

Her hair was down, hanging frazzled and as Branch took another step closer, he understood why.

Tossed aside and pitiful in the damp, untrimmed grass, was a homemade headband, decorated with those perky periwinkle blue blossoms that Poppy wore atop her head every day without fail. It was entangled with a snapped turquoise elastic. Upon further inspection, he found more. A collection of her noisily jangling bracelets and rainbow Silly Bandz.

He looked up questionably but as their eyes met, Poppy seemed to recoil. She shook her head hopelessly and without a word, her head dropped itself against her knees.

Branch remained still, uncertain of how he could hope to fix this, the silence of the moment disrupted only by a light breeze. He raked his eyes up and down her little, closed up form and felt himself grimace.

Her clothes were still loud and her hair was like bubblegum and yet despite that, Branch couldn’t help but feel that Poppy had been drained of her color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [THEM](http://andreavroca.tumblr.com/post/162344812474)
> 
> [Some quality buddies](https://azahlea-valonir.tumblr.com/post/162143604167)
> 
> [A MOTHERFUCKIN PLAYLIST HELL YEAH](https://stackmodus.tumblr.com/post/161919988083)
> 
> [Hot Mess](https://le-poule.tumblr.com/post/161831320783)
> 
> [Hot Mess The Sequel](http://frootpunch.tumblr.com/post/161752145644)
> 
> [Hot Mess The Finale](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/161642138383)
> 
> [Oh Shit Again](http://tisbubb.tumblr.com/post/161752806410)
> 
> [go time is right](https://tealbull81.tumblr.com/post/161601786245)


	20. Chapter 20

Was she happy to see him? Well, that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

Poppy couldn’t recall a time when she had been anything but enthusiastic to see Branch. Every variation of Branch she knew. From the chubby little toddler plopped down in a sandbox, to the prickly teenager slumped in the back of her English class.

There was the grumbling Branch she met every morning over the breakfast table, and the equally grumbling Branch who returned home every evening.

And then, there was the Branch in the middle. The Branch whose dry humor slipped through the cracks of perpetual cynicism, like streaks of sunlight through a greying curtain. The Branch who was willing to play along with her silly games, an inviting smirk egging her on. The Branch who had always existed but required a little extra effort to dig out.

Always worth that effort though.

The shadow draped Branch in the distance, would try his hardest to make her smile. Poppy knew that. Because that was the person he was, the person she fell very, _very_ hard for. But the problem was, he knew that now. He knew damn well and it was making her insides squirm just thinking about it.

Poppy never wanted to push him away, it had always been the other way around. But now, but good God, _now_ …

She was already neck deep in the ‘I’m an idiot’ mentality after Creek. She really didn’t need to add a sloppily executed love confession to her never-ending list of mistakes she had berating herself with.

As she ripped away from the eye contact as if it were physically paining her, she found herself unable to look up again, face buried deep into the pit of her knees.

_Oh, yeah. Real smart, Pops. Maybe if you stay perfectly still, he’ll forget you’re there._

If she were to be perfectly honest, she might call this cowering.

Her entire world in that moment, consisted of chilly steel against her back and the chirp of hidden crickets. A rhythmic ambience only ruptured by his footsteps as he crossed the roadside patch.

A light rustle, a soft grunt and, as she felt him settle down beside her, a sigh. His mild but distinguishable scent tampered with the crisp air and all at once, Poppy felt a surprising stab of comfort. There was a very distinct difference between the anxiety inducing _thought_ of Branch and… well, Branch’s actual presence. A presence that, in this moment, demanded nothing of her.

She was still unwilling to look up and did not wish to breathe a word right now. But goddammit, if Branch stood up and left her, she would seize his home-smelling jacket and hold on for dear life.

_And then what? Drag him down with you?_

The lump in her throat burned at the thought and Poppy shifted urgently. Not daring to lift her head, she hastily shuffled a space away from him and realized with disappointment, that the distance cut off access to his scent. She was back to inhaling unfamiliarity.

Branch said nothing.

Poppy wondered how tired he was. It was extremely late and so far, the poor guy had hunted her impulsive butt down, dragged himself all the way to Troll Town and found her curled up on the curb like a discarded trash bag. Not to mention that disaster of a phone call she put him through.

He must be sick of her shit by now.

“So. Run out of gas?” He finally spoke, in a voice just above a whisper although she caught every word in crystal clarity. Maybe it was the nervous anticipation for him to open his mouth.

“Mm.”

“You know, I passed a gas station not too far from here. I don’t know if we both took the same route but-”

“We took the same route.” Poppy droned, raising her head so her voice wouldn’t muffle. She wasn’t in the mood to be repeating herself.

She propped her chin against her knee and kept her gaze locked dead ahead. “Passed the same gas station you did. I just wasn’t thinkin’ straight. Didn’t fill up when I should’ve…”

Something rose and dropped from the corner of her eye. A shrug, she assumed.

“It happens, I guess. But hey, you never know the shit that can go on in gas stations late at night. I mean, remember that one guy we met?”

“Uh huh.”

“I was gonna kill him with a stick…”

“Uh huh.”

He waited for her to jump in. The tale of Branch’s confrontation with the cloudy headed guy outside a gas station, was one that Poppy often recounted with great enthusiasm. But Poppy had no intention of babbling tediously. At least not about this. It didn’t seem as funny anymore.

For a moment, silence hung.

“Y-your Dad’s place… your home. That’s where you were heading, right?”

“Yep.”

“I mean, I-I can drive you there. We can go right now, just get-”

“Nope.”

She heard a kerfuffle of words back themselves up from within Branch’s throat. The strangled sound he made, almost brought a smile to her face. But as she opened her mouth to explain, the microscopic fleck of humor vanished. “I don’t-…I… I wanted to go home. But I can’t. I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t.”

“Um,” Branch hesitated, clearly stumped with the lack of material to work with. “Alright. Do you… want to talk about… why you can’t…?”

Poppy inhaled, gathering her words together. But with a single “I-…” her voice croaked, wavering dangerously and her jaw snapped shut. She shook her head.

Branch’s gaze lingered momentarily before he nodded. “Okay, Poppy.”

Can whatever merciful Gods that were out there, please explain why a gentle murmur of her name was enough to have her on the verge of tears… again?

Nobody spoke as the night sang on.

Poppy fidgeted, constantly re-adjusting the embrace around her legs.

Branch breathed steadily and, to her growing agitation, very, very patiently.

He would wait here beside her forever, wouldn’t he?

Well, luckily for him, it wouldn’t be forever because Poppy apparently could not keep her huge, ever-flapping yap shut for the life of her.

“My bell’s gone, Branch,”

A beat.

“I know.”

“No, you _don’t_ know!” She said shrilly before her voice dropped to a shaking mutter. “Creek… I meant to…I gave…b-but he…”

“Sold it.” Branch nodded. “I know. I know what happened. You don’t have to… y’know… go into it. It’s fine.”

Poppy met his sober expression, if even fleetingly. She blinked, bewildered. “How do you…?” Her words petered out, the memory gradually resurfacing.

Creek’s easy shrug and his nonchalant tone as he paved out a bitter truth. God, she could just imagine herself. Standing rigid, and gawking as if she were some dim-witted preschooler who couldn’t comprehend what was being explained to her. What an image, right? It’s almost like that was her the whole damn time.

Maybe even her whole damn life?

Her shoulders dropped pathetically. “I got played pretty easily, huh? I guess now that I think about it, it was kinda obvious he was using me. What a great time for me to figure that out, right?”

“Poppy-”

She pushed out a rough sounding chuckle. “Oh my God, remember that time I got upset ‘cause I thought that you thought I was a ditz and I was all ‘Noooo, that’s not truuuueee…’” She waved her hands around mockingly, in a distorted, whiny impression of her own voice. “Well, look at us now!”

Branch tutted irritably and shook her shoulder, with a “Hey! Hey!”, attempting any form of direct eye contact, which Poppy had been particularly flighty with. “And what did I say that time? I said you weren’t a ditz, didn’t I?”

She felt her lips stretch unnaturally wide, smile empty as she gestured wildly to their surroundings. “Well, then, what the fuck are we doin’ out here, Branch?! Does a smart person just up and skip town in the middle of the goddamn night? Does she forget to fill up her tank and get stranded on the side of the road?!”

“She was going-!” Branch realized his error, with a twitch of his brow. “You… _you_ were going through a lot. The whole thing with Creek and-”

“That’s the whole fucking reason I’m stupid in the first place!” Poppy all but shrieked. “He conned me, Branch! And I-,” Her jaw clenched. “A-and I bought into every bit of it,”

“Goddammit, Poppy,” Branch’s tone grew gradually more impatient. “That’s just who you-…"

Her neck was locked determinedly in place, chin drawn downwards.

A sudden bark. “Will you just fucking look at me?!”

Startled by his outburst, Poppy’s head snapped his way.

His eyes popped, seeming to stun even _himself._ He opened his mouth, presumably to apologize, but with a sharp nod from Poppy, his lips sealed shut. A look of understanding was shared between them, a look that summarized an entire exchange in a matter of seconds.

Poppy silently forgave him for raising his voice. Branch seemed to thank her.

The lingering uncertainty passed and his expression hardened. “That’s just…” Branch cleared his throat. “That’s just the person that you are. You trusted Creek because-”

“Because I’m not bright, Branch.” She stated, plain and simple. “I always knew that and I don’t need to be told I am, just for me to feel better. Can’t I just whine about what an idiot I am in peace, without you spoon-feeding me some bullshit?”

_Wow. You tell a boy you’re in love with him fourteen hours ago and look at ya now! Chewing the poor guy’s head off. You really are a hot mess, ain’t ya?_

“I…” Branch looked taken aback. “I-I guess that’s fair enough but… can I at least make my point…?”

A polite decline was dripping off the tip of her tongue but once she looked up, she was caught. A single glance into earnest blue eyes and Poppy could only sigh, resigned. “Fine.”

“Don’t interrupt me-”

“Fine.”

“This is important-”

“Okay.”

“Poppy,” He said in that mildly exasperated voice. A voice that brought her back to a sleepy Wednesday morning after she went a little excessive with the sugar in Branch’s cereal.

“You are clearly interrupting me, while I’m telling you not to interrupt me and _I know_ you’re doing it just to fuck with me and I will _thank you,”_ He punctuated with a teasing poke to her temple. “to cut it out.”

Humor plucked the corner of her lips, and judging by Branch’s quiet chuckle, she had formed the tiniest of smiles.

“I’m all ears, bud.”

Branch was quick to fix himself into a more comfortable position. He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, Poppy watching with piqued interest at the greased raven cowlicks that stood untidily atop his head.

His hands spread out as if he were to begin talking but quickly curled away once he reconsidered his words, again and again.

Poppy waited, chewing away at any clever remark there was to make.

“Creek was your friend…” He finally said. The sentence trickled out, slow and cautious, as if he were nervous about making any last second backtracks. “He’s been your friend for years. It’s no wonder you trusted him. How were you supposed to know what he would do?”

“I mean… he made it pretty obvious.”

Branch shrugged. “You didn’t _want_ to see any bad in him so you didn’t. That’s the kind of person you are.”

A lacklustre laugh. “Yeah. And a lot of good it’s gotten me too.”

“Yeah, I guess it has, I mean-”

“Branch, bud.” He met face to face with Poppy’s deadpan expression. “That was sarcasm.”

There was a split second of shock, before Branch’s eyelids were batting rapidly, astonishment evident in every feature. “W-well, shit. Is it-…is it usually that hard to read when I do it? Because if so, I take back every smartass comment I ever made when you didn’t pick up on it.”

“If I dig deep inside myself, I think I can forgive you.” She replied dryly.

“Okay, good.” He nodded, either not noticing or blatantly ignoring the roll of her eyes.

“So, anyway, that’s… that’s what you do. That’s what you’ve always done.”

Poppy could only stare, puzzled.

He elaborated. “You meet people and immediately decide you’re going to see them as good. It’s not… It’s not a bad thing. I-I… it’s done a lot of good so far.” Branch’s voice lowered as the words carried on, gaze fixed stubbornly against his knees. “You gave some people hope that they weren’t as awful as they thought they were.”

He paused, gnawing thoughtfully at his bottom lip. He turned to her, mouth drawn in a thin line and bright eyes almost overwhelmingly sincere. “It’s not that you’re stupid, I promise. You just try so hard to overlook the bad and see only the good and…” A small, definite nod. “It’s a good part of you. A really good part.”

While the faintest warmth spread through her chest, Poppy clung to her skepticism. She refused with a firm shake of her head. “If it’s so good, then why did this happen?”

Branch released a heavy sigh. “Because sometimes things are a fucking shitshow, Poppy.”

“Aaaaaand ya lost me.”

“That thing you have…well… it’s a good thing. It really is. But-but some people are going to use it against you.”

“Yep.” Poppy popped her lips. “Been there, done that. Not too long ago, come to think of it.”

“But… I guess that’s just life.” Branch rose a shoulder in a compliant shrug. “We’ve all got… parts of ourselves that other people will take advantage of. Hell, some of us got a ton.”

“Well, then, problem solved,” She chirped, tone exaggeratedly cheery. “Find all weaknesses and get rid of them before some asshole can come in and-”

“Poppy, no.”

“Poppy, yes!”

“That is not what I was going to say.”

“Sure as Hell sounds like it.”

Branch tipped his head back with a light groan. “What I was going to say is… why should you change something about yourself, something _good_ about yourself, just because some people don’t deserve it? It’s not your fault shitty people exist.”

“Because maybe I don’t wanna get played again, Branch.”

“Poppy,” He said lowly. “Creek shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have made you feel bad about that part of you. All I’m saying is that… even though somebody fucked you over because of it, with all the good it’s done so far…” A hesitantly hopeful look ghosted across his face. “I really think it’s something you should be proud of.”

Poppy grimaced.

She wanted to go along with what he was saying, she really did. But her ‘Get Back Up Again’ mindset had been pushed, no, utterly _steamrolled_ , until she couldn’t find herself with any hope of shooting back up. And now, all she could do was bite back retorts to prevent her flattened little self from enduring any more hardship.

“So, what?” She asked, quiet at first before her voice picked itself up. “You just want me to keep up the gullible shit to every stranger I meet? Sounds like a trainwreck to me.”

Poppy slouched back against the steel pole, arms folded over her chest in instinctive defense. “Heck, I could see a guy swaggerin’ up like ‘Hello, Miss, I’m the wallet inspector,’ and boom! I hand over everything I got, with that big, dumb smile of mine. Is that what you’re sayin’ to me, Branch? You want me to be like that forever?”

Branch jutted a forefinger in her direction, with a compromising nod. “Okay, okay, that’s a good point. But no, I’m not saying you have to be a hundred percent willing to trust everyone you meet. I just think that… no matter what happens, you’re always going to see the best in people. I don’t think this whole deal with Creek is going to change that.”

Poppy couldn’t help but scoff. “What makes you so sure of that, bud?”

“I don’t know. Just being optimistic, I guess?”

A short lived but thoughtful silence as his words hung in the air. The thin sliver or pride she felt, did not go unnoticed.

“Why you?” She murmured, studying his side profile, in a half-hearted search for an answer.

Branch didn’t voice his question but simply looked to her with evident confusion.

“Why is it _you_ that’s trying to be optimistic about this? Is all of this really that important to you?”

“Well, yeah.” He answered, as if it were obvious.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to go grey.”

While his answer came naturally, it had clearly been a slip of the tongue. In the pale glow of the moon, she caught the mild blush tinge his face.

“Ah, fuck!” Branch formed a frustrated fist and knocked it against his forehead. “I-I didn’t…I’m sorry…”

“Sorry?” Her head titled in absolute bafflement, as her fingers curled instinctively around his wrist. She lowered his fist against his lap. “Branch…I don’t-…you don’t gotta be sorry but like…I don’t think I get what you mean…”

“Good. Forget it.”

“Nah, I’m interested.” Balancing on her fingertips, Poppy leaned forwards to peer at his face. “Enlighten me. Whataya mean by grey?”

Branch groaned reluctantly. “It’s just… it’s always been the terminology in my head when I thought about it,”

“Thought about what?”

“It’s… well, a-after you have…” He was struggling for an answer, all fidgeting fingers before he finally blurted out “Sad! It-it just means sad, alright?”

_… Huh._

With a bemused squint, she slowly nodded, opening her mouth to speak before Branch continued. He was plucking anxiously at a hole in his jeans.

“But… like…it’s not… it’s not the usual kind of sad. Like when the dog dies in the movie or whatever…”

“A tragedy.” Poppy whispered.

Branch nodded. “I know. But it’s… it’s a kind of sad that sticks, y’know? You feel like you’re never going to bounce back from it. It’s really shitty and it feels like grey is everything you are, everything you got inside you just…” He paused, his shoulders slumping. “All grey…”

A speechless beat followed as realization jabbed viciously at Poppy’s heart.

The last few weeks had been…tough. And while she could never truly articulate what she felt, Branch had absolutely nailed it in a few simple words. The visual of lifeless grey smearing her body, twisting her thoughts and dulling her world, was now imprinted in her mind like a sickening hallucination.

_Oh, please God, no. Not now._

“I think that…” She trailed off, words stinging her throat as her mouth twitched uncontrollably. This was not the second wind she wanted.

“I know you’d hate it.” He commented, oblivious as he gazed down at his knees. “Sounds like your nightmare, right?”

_Yeah. Yeah, it does._

The tiniest sob escaped, like the echoing cry seconds before an avalanche. With that, the last of Poppy’s will was shattered.

Branch’s head snapped up in attention before his panicked features were blurred by a sudden rush of tears.

“What? What is it?!”

Calloused and trembling hands seized her arms as she crumpled forwards, weeks-worth of stifled desolation now overflowing in big, fat droplets and pooling into her lap. “I tried!” She managed to squeak out. “I tried really hard, I really did but it just kept getting worse and worse and I wasn’t me at all and I thought it would never go away and I couldn’t be happy and I was ignoring it and kept trying to-”

Her rapid-fire blathering was cut off abruptly by a desperate need for oxygen. She inhaled deeply, breaths coming ragged as the alarm clutched at her heart and mind. “I couldn’t…” Her voice wobbled. “be happy… when I tried to be… I couldn’t…”

Poppy didn’t recall everything she said, senseless words spilling out if even to pad the uneasy silence. Branch seemed to follow suit, not saying anything particularly profound as he stroked her arms, muttering a gentle string of “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay…”

His palms massaged a comforting heat into her skin and while he couldn’t stop the tear-stream, the wracking gasps soon subsided, eased by the predictability of his motion.

Utterly frustrated with herself _(Was being happy really that hard?),_ Poppy drooped, her forehead pressing hard against Branch’s shoulder.

She scrubbed her dampened eyes, sniffles and sobs ongoing as the minutes dawdled endlessly.

Branch’s chin was now resting atop her head and his hands had travelled to running up and down her back. His quiet reassurances never ceased and as time ebbed away, so did the surge of inflamed emotions. They hardened like lava, the steam arising a numbingly gloomy aftermath.

Poppy was tired.

“You get it all out?” Branch’s hushed voice spoke up from above her.

“Yeah…”

Impenitent warmth brimmed from both his touch and tone, his steady heartbeat resounding like a relentless flicker of hope.

“Was it because I was rambling about things being all grey and shit? I-I really-…I shouldn’t have-…it wasn’t the time. I’m sorry.”

“No.” Poppy whispered. “It just made me realize something.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t be out here.”

Branch scoffed, with a light bap to her head. “Well, yeah.” She heard a smile in his voice. “Neither of us should. That’s why I’m trying to take you home to your-”

“No, you.” She said wearily. “Specifically you. It’s late, Branch. You shouldn’t have drove all the way out here just ‘cause I’m completely nuts. I think you’ve dealt with your Poppy quota for a while.”

“I didn’t know I had a-”

“Buddy, in the past two days alone, I got mad about stuff and yelled at you because of it. Then not twenty-four hours later, I got weirdly emotional and dumped a ton of shit on you over a phone call,”

Branch stiffened.

“ _Then_ , I up and disappeared ‘cause I didn’t know how to deal with stuff like a normal functioning adult. I just wanted to run home to my Dad but I probably scared a ton of people shitless in the process. How’s the Snack Pack holdin’ out?”

He shifted uncomfortably, failing to hide his grimace.

That face said it all, really. Poppy nodded as the panic her friends went through unfurled effortlessly inside her mind. She caused it. Fantastic.

“I texted them when I saw you. They should be getting some sleep by now,”

A pause.

“Go home, Branch.”

“Not happening.” He retorted at once.

“I know you wanna.”

“Poppy, I would honestly rather dye my hair fucking blue, then leave you right now.”

“You don’t have to put up with this!” She hissed suddenly. In a matter of seconds, her face, previously scrunched up in impatience, loosened as the moment weighed her down. “I’m sorry.”

Branch shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. You just-”

“No.” Poppy repeated. “What I’m saying is… I don’t want you to have to deal with me when I’m like this. I don’t wanna make anybody deal with this. Not you, or the Snack Pack, or my Dad…” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I-I can’t… I can’t make any of you happy… not like I usually do. I’m sorry. It’s just that… when I’m like this… I’m not gonna be of any use to anybody. I feel like all I’m gonna do is bring you down…”

An objection from Branch was expected. Boy was stubborn after all. But goddammit, she was prepared to argue back and forth until he left her alone and got some well-deserved sleep.

However, what Poppy did not expect, was a prolonged silence. And if anything made her heart drop any lower, it was the weight of his hands lifted off her shoulders.

_Wow. That was easier than I thought._

She looked up curiously and felt her neck jut back in surprise.

Branch had not budged. Instead, he was kneeling before her, his palms resting on his knees as he stared. He looked an unpleasant mix of stunned and utterly stricken. Pale faced, wide eyed and slack jawed, he raked his gaze across hers, unsettled by whatever horrific thoughts seemed to bleed through his subconscious. His chest heaved unevenly.

“You-you sound like-…”

Poppy waited.

But Branch never continued. His bottom lip disappeared and squeezing his eyes shut, he gave a firm shake of the head. His hand roamed against his jean pocket and with a light paper crinkle, an image was slid under her gaze.

She blinked down at the little note, barely defined in the dim moonlight. But with a squint, she could just about recognize the familiar drawing.

“Grey Branch.” Poppy murmured.

“If I remember correctly, you said… you said that you liked him.” A small smile cracked Branch’s lips.

Despite her heating cheeks, she kept her lips buttoned, gaze held firmly on the cute, little Troll doodle so she wouldn’t have to face his cute, little counterpart.

Feeling his eyes on her, she nodded in defeat. “I may recall saying something like that. Maybe. Possibly. You have no proof.”

Her answer was enough to satisfy Branch. A quiet chuckle escaped through his nose, as he shrugged.

“Hell, you were insistent on liking this little fuck. Even when I was giving you all the reasons you shouldn’t. But you kept saying how angry wasn’t all he was. That-that even though he’s kind of grey and stuff, he’s… there’s still a lot more to him than that.”

_We get it, Branch. I’m in love with you and I’m really obvious about it. Didn’t I tell you to go home?_

“Just like there’s a lot more to you than happiness.”

A statement spoken soft as velveteen although the words still tightened Poppy’s breath and picked her head up in pure confusion. “What?”

Branch pulled the drawing inwards, his fingers fidgeting at its corners. “Even if you feel grey, there’s no reason for me to go. There’s no reason to cut off your Dad, or the Snack Pack or…”

He trailed off with brief hesitation, before continuing, his voice stronger than ever. “Or even me. Whether you’re happy or you’re not, we’re all still going to care about you. You’re still Poppy.”

“In writing, yeah.” She said quietly.

“It’s more than that.” Branch argued. “You can be happy, or angry, or sad and you’ll still be Poppy. I know you said before that happiness is inside of all of us and you’re right but… but the same thing goes for sadness, y’know? Or-or any other feeling, really.”

“Yeah, but…” Poppy’s mouth wavered wordlessly, until she sighed. “Being happy is… It’s _why_ people like me, Branch. It’s why I have friends, it’s how I _keep_ friends! A-and if I stop being happy then-”

“Then, _nothing_.” Branch said sharply. “Poppy, you don’t have friends just because you’re always happy about everything. You have them because-”

“Because I shared my candy with them in kindergarten and the fee was a fourteen-year friendship contract,”

“No, it’s-” Branch cut himself off, arching a brow. “Wait, what?”

She shrugged. “Just spit-ballin’ theories here. ‘Cause like, buddy… if it wasn’t the whole bright eyed, cheerful thing I got goin’ on, then what else got me the friends?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I think it was definitely the cheerful thing that got you the friends in the first place. But what kept them is… you just genuinely caring about them. You’re optimistic, sure. You’re upbeat. You’re funny. You’re p-”

His narrated train of thought came to a staggering halt and noticeably reddening, he quickly glanced elsewhere. “Y-you’re a lot of things. But… but even though everyone knows you as happy, I still think that…”

He inhaled firmly. “I think that your kindness beats your happiness any day. Might just be the best part of you. And it’s not just me that thinks that. I know for damn sure, the Snack Pack does too and that’s why w- _they_ … that’s why they love you so much.”

“Branch-”

He was not done. “You can be grey if you feel like it. Or you can be pink or you can be… shit, Poppy. You can be whatever the fuck you want to be. And you’re allowed to feel whatever you feel. And whatever kind of mood you’re in, you’re still Poppy and you’re still kind and we’re still going to care about you.”

And with that, Branch’s words resided in floored silence.

Poppy could only gaze at him, eyes unabashedly wide. Little by little, tiny knots of guilt unwound and her body, fixed in a tension she couldn’t previously pinpoint, seemed to thoroughly relax for the first time in hours.

_You can be sad. It’s okay._

In hindsight, it was as basic as learning her ABCs.

But as Poppy sat and processed, Branch seemed to only grow more antsy. Once she looked up, she met his face contorted in agitation. He jumped, startled at the eye contact before launching into a ramble.

“Yeah, okay, you don’t have to say it, I get it. That was kind of a diabetes inducing speech I pulled right there and I totally understand if you’ve got some shit to make fun of. I mean, fuck, _I_ can name like five things to make fun of, off the top of my head. Firstly I-… I was…”

His words died away as he felt a sudden touch and his eyes fell to his lap. Fingers brushed assuredly against the back of his hand. Branch glanced up.

Tired and drained but with appreciation pooling in her stomach, Poppy mustered a warm smile. “Thank you.” She gave his hand an affectionate pat.

Of course, Branch was damn right. There were several things she could poke fun at in this moment, if even to lighten the mood.

One thing on the top of her list, would be how Branch reacted. A simple ‘You’re welcome’ or ‘No problem’ did not seem like difficult phrases to articulate. But he had been struck speechless and after a moment of gaping at her, could only nod hastily, returning her smile with a tight, uncertain one of his own.

But while the options were practically laid out on fine china, Poppy couldn’t bring herself to tease him. She didn’t feel particularly playful or bouncy right now.

The feeling that settled between them had certainly not lightened her heart but she couldn’t bear to call it an unpleasant emotion. She was grateful first and foremost, thankfulness for everything Branch was and everything he strived so hard to be, strong, undiluted and honestly a little overwhelming.

Poppy loved Branch. She loved him a lot.

The seconds disappeared and with no clock to count the ticks, she couldn’t say for certain how long they sat without speaking.

“Ready to go home yet?” Branch asked.

Her heart sank, entire upper body drooping along with it. She slunk away from him. “Yeah, just… just gimme a minute…”

“So, you’re not saying you can’t anymore?”

Poppy shook her head. “I still don’t wanna but… I guess I gotta. Can’t stay out here all night. Can’t keep this from my Dad forever. I-I just- I need just a minute to… prepare.”

“Okay. Take your time.”

She did. Barely registering her actions as her mind mulled over the thousand and one ways her Dad would react, her knees tightened closer and closer to her chest.

But it was her _Dad_. Dammit, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. She wasn’t supposed to feel so down at the thought of her family. She was in Troll Town for God’s sake! Last week, she had been radiating with excitement just to be home. And now…

“Y’know,” Poppy sighed. “I really do appreciate what you said. ‘Bout how I can feel whatever I wanna feel. I needed to hear it. But like…”

She ran her hands across the sides of her face, scraping back matted, pink hair. “It’s been a really long week a-and…and I _wanna_ be happy. I miss being happy…”

Branch didn’t answer, save for an acknowledging hum. A hum that bordered on thoughtful but Poppy barely noticed at the time.

She drew her head back and looked to the stars. Billions of sequin specks on an endless sheet of navy felt.

Man, she missed scrapbooking.

Branch was crawling across the ground, pawing through the overgrown grass and gradually stuffing God-knows-what into his jacket pockets. Poppy was too exhausted to even question this.

_Well, he did used to have that obsession with sticks when we were five. Hope he’s not relapsing._

The crickets were cheeping again. Or maybe she had just tuned them out until now. There were far too little clear thoughts, too much hazy emotions and not enough words exchanged to have her feeling at ease. With her guard fully down, the noises of the world could finally enclose her.

Soft, low and predictable.

Well, maybe predictable wasn’t the right word to describe the final sound that joined nature’s quiet symphony.

_“You with the sad eyes,”_

A beat.

Poppy didn’t know whether to smile, laugh or cry. A climax to a stupid inside joke that she had driven to the ground. Branch never seemed to find it funny. The only reason he could possibly be doing this, was to maybe get a little joy out of her.

 _“Don’t be discouraged…”_   Mellifluous singing faded away.

She looked up to a face lined in nervousness. He studied every shift of her features, his own hesitant.

Poppy blinked, her bottom lip lowering to speak. But she had no words. All she could do was meet his eyes, with an expression that screamed ‘Go on’ louder than any voice could.

He did so, shuffling a space closer, his scent wafting in the process.

Overcome and flustered, her eyes shot elsewhere, decidedly content with the pattern of scrapes across her knees.

But it didn’t last, as a tepid hand captured her cheek and pulled her his way with relative ease. Poppy didn’t protest, nor did she turn away.

His brow rose and with an understanding tilt of the head, he continued patiently.

_“Oh, I realize it’s hard to take courage in a world full of people. You can lose sight of it all,”_

She felt her chin droop.

 _“And the darkness inside you,”_   He ducked his neck, peering nearer. _“Can make you feel so small.”_

Poppy wanted to hug him. She wanted to collapse into his arms and never emerge. But she resisted with braced shoulders. It would only have her bursting into tears. Again.

She wanted to inhale his air through comfortable breaths and to see his face through unclouded eyes. Poppy couldn’t bear to cry anymore.

_“Show me a smile, then,”_

He was hoisting her into a standing position, her knees stiff and wobbly as they parted ways. She drifted towards the car.

_“Don’t be unhappy. Can’t remember when...”_

She stood with folded arms, listening as his voice carried across the gap.

 _“...I last saw you laughing.”_   He was getting closer.

_“This world makes you crazy,”_

A sudden _pffffffbbbbt!_ Of a raspberry erupted in her right eardrum and a surprised snigger slipped through Poppy’s lips.

Branch rounded to face her, something pale blue and ruffled hanging around his sleeve, an amused smirk etched in place.

_“And you’ve taken all you can bear,”_

He softened, reaching out and gently taking hold of her forearms.

_“Just call me up,”_

He swallowed. _“’Cause I will **always** be there.”_

She barely registered when his fingers had lowered but they were soon lifting each of her hands. Bit by bit, he carefully returned the collection of discarded bands and bracelets to her naked wrists. She gave an experimental shake. Rainbows, studs and glitter rattled cheerfully.

_“And I see your true colors shining through,”_

Branch pulled her closer, sliding the all-too-familiar floral headband off his arm. Poppy ducked her head expectantly, feeling the feather weight settle in her messy hair.

_“I see your true colors,”_

She reached up gingerly, tongue poking out as she adjusted her crooked crown. A smile touched her lips. A smile that flourished into a beam, giddiness drumming at her heart.

_“And that’s why I love you…”_

It stopped.

What stopped?

Everything stopped. The singing stopped. Poppy’s heart stopped. She was pretty damn sure the entire earth rotation stopped.

They had no music to speak of but she was almost certain they had. Maybe she had imagined it. But now, with his voice gone, they stood frozen in a silence they had brought upon themselves.

Branch knew the song. He knew the lyrics. The phrase was predestined after all. But just because he sang with such compassion, didn’t necessarily mean every word was his own.

And she probably would have thought as much, if she hadn’t bothered to look at him.

His smile had not vanished since he uttered the line. It flickered nervously with what Poppy recognized as Branch’s usual brand of internal indecisiveness. He was wondering whether he wanted to backtrack.

_You can if you want. It’s okay._

He didn’t.

The usual slouch of his neck and shoulders straightened and his smile grew broader. No nod, no ‘Yes’ but the confirmation was set in stone and they both knew it.

A rush of adrenaline electrified her veins but with a single deep breath, gooey sweetness overlapped, bubbling through her body.

Poppy stepped forwards.

Branch was visibly startled but did not step back.

Her fingers tied tentatively around his wrist and she opened her mouth, voice far higher than she remembered.

_“So, don’t be afraid...”_

His stiff posture loosened in invitation and her hand glided down. She found his fingers and they linked naturally. Their gazes interlocked, both unsure but through hammering hearts and genuine smiles, they communicated a desire to keep singing.

_“...to let them show,”_

Poppy knew how he felt about himself. She knew the exterior image he had painted, was damp with storm clouds. Always bleak, always grey.

_“Your true colors, true colors...”_

But his eyes were fragments of a summer sky, now alit with a hidden exuberance that she didn’t even think he knew of. Iridescent in the moonlight, Poppy wondered if this was just the euphoria talking or had his eyes ever glowed so bright before?

_“...are beautiful.”_

It was Poppy who initiated the dance, clasping his hands with jittering eagerness and dragging him into rotation.

_“I see your true colors,”_

Branch didn’t protest but let her lead on, amusement twitching in the line of his lips as they spun like a carousel and christened every inch of dying grass as their land.

_“True colors,”_

No matter what Branch thought, Poppy knew better. They grey had never truly taken him from her, not really. It festered and polluted his mind until he felt lost inside himself but through it all, it left not a trace of poison. Not where it counted. His heart remained untouched by storm clouds.

_“I see your true colors,”_

And then there was his smile. Something you would assume he lost the essence of years ago but as he grinned back at her, excitedly belting out lyrics to a song he didn’t even care for, she saw flashes of kindergarten photographed in that smile.

That kid who proposed to her with a ring pop, had never died.

_“And that’s why I love you,”_

They parted and swayed, hands quick to connect once again and eyes almost reluctant to look anywhere else but to their counterpart.

_“So, don’t be afraid to let them show. Your true colors, true colors are beautiful,”_

Branch pulled back, tugging her along with him. His gaze flashed pointedly to her eye-popping bangles and he gestured towards her with ironic exaggeration.

_“Like a rainbow,”_

Quirking a competitive brow, Poppy refused to be outdid in dramatics. With a deep inhale, she released a long, honeyed note.

_“Ohhhhhhh, like a rainbow!”_

A defeated chuckle sounded from his throat and he relaxed, accepting Poppy’s line as their duet’s rightful finale.

Peace fell between them, jubilated sparks still fizzling in an otherwise comfortable atmosphere.

Of course, who would Poppy be if she didn't break the silence?

“So, uh, you finally sang Cyndi Lauper for me,” She laughed breathlessly to relieve her dizziness and frazzled nerves. “Guess you were right, you _can_ do a better cover than her! Who would’ve-?”

A sudden dive, a startled yelp and before Poppy could even question, she was blinking in shock, enveloped in a tight embrace.

It took one, two, three breaths before her arms rose, slow at first, before they had him entangled. She held him close, bathing in the scorch of his body heat.

Her eyes sealed shut and a hazy moment looped in her mind.

Once upon a time, a little girl shrieked “Hug Time!” and a little boy pounced in an instant. They fell in a clumsy, giggling pile, a mess of chubby limbs and cheeks contentedly smushed together.

She had missed Branch’s hugs.

* * *

Gravel flew under the roll of tires as the car twisted cautiously down winding roads.

“Relax, bud. I doubt you’re gonna meet another car at this hour,” Poppy commented, snuggling into her seat, cheek rested against her makeshift face hammock. (“Put on your seatbelt.” _“Face hammock!”_ )

Branch shrugged. “You never know. Drunk drivers, badgers, deer-”

Poppy gasped, with a rapid palm slap against her lap. “Oh, oh, ohhhhh,” She wriggled in her spot, hurriedly crossing her fingers. “Hopin’ for a deer!”

“No, you’re not. Please don’t hope for a deer.”

“C’mon, wildlife, I had a shitty night! Reveal yourself to me!”

“This isn’t even my car! If we come across a deer, there’s a fifty percent chance, we’ll hit it.”

“Nah, we won’t,” She said airily, slanting to the side to press his cheek with a gentle poke. “We got ourselves a careful man at the wheel.”

He huffed in response, swatting her repeatedly prodding finger away as she became transfixed with the squish of his skin.

_It’s like a jellyfish!_

With an exaggerated pout upon being denied her pawing privilege (Responsible drivers. What can ya do?) Poppy settled for innocent observation.

Her eyes raked across his face, as if he were an aging portrait, with rapt attention paid to every humane detail. But in the pitch black of night, all she could really hope to view was a blurred, rounded silhouette of a boy. Or was it a man? Or… maybe something in-between.

Branch was still padded in a defined layer of baby fat, something she noticed with a swell of endearment.

And like buttercups jutting through cracks of concrete, Poppy was now feeling particularly Poppy-like. The urge to lunge forward, grab his squashy face and squeal “You’re just so cuuuuuuuuute!” was growing more and more compelling by the second.

Buuuuuuut that may lead to a nasty accident, so she held back. On the bright side, she could at least continue to stare. That couldn’t possibly distract Branch too much, right?

He cleared his throat. “Okay, you need to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

_“That!”_

_“What?”_   She replicated his tone to near perfection, although an underlying laugh still leaked though.

“You’re just-…you’re-…” A sudden string anxious beats hit against the steering wheel.

Poppy waited patiently.

Branch gave up, with a slumping sigh. “Forget it. Just, you know what?” He shifted to his left and reached under his seat. Re-emerging, he offered her a half full, plastic water bottle. “Drink something.”

Her brow furrowed, with an up-and-down glance over. “This is Gristle’s car, right?”

“Right.” Clear liquid sloshed as he gave the bottle a moderate shake. “C’mon, my arm’s getting tired.”

Poppy accepted it. “Should I really be taking his water?”

“It’s _my_ water.”

“Huh. Well, uh. How come it’s in Gristle’s car?”

“He bought it for me.” Branch answered curtly, with a very vocal period.

Poppy hummed absentmindedly.

So, he didn’t want to discuss his time spent with Gristle, huh? Man, what even _happened_ after she went missing?

_Wonder how Branch took it._

Well, he was probably one of the few people to keep his head on straight, at least.

“Now, drink.” He cut through her internal wanderings. “I’m pretty sure you’re dehydrated as Hell right now.”

“Ehhh,” She shrugged. “I think I’m good.”

“Uh huh. When was the last time you drank anything?”

“Uhhh…”

Branch clicked his tongue smugly. “Exactly. You proved my point. Now, drink.”

_Fine, Mom._

Poppy unwound the cap and tipping her head back, downed the remaining half of the bottle. Turns out she was thirstier than she realized.

Blessed with a now empty hunk of noisy plastic, she crunched it in her fist.

Branch winced at the sound.

She smirked, looking to him with a cock of her head. “Happy now?”

“Delighted.” He deadpanned.

A minimal pause. Not a woman of a thorough thought process, Poppy, completely on whim, decided to test the waters.

“Are you?” She inquired tenderly, the casual atmosphere of the car dissolving with her tone.

Branch didn’t answer right away, his expression hidden in a sheet of shadows. Finally, he exhaled.

“Right now? Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Spoken soft as his song, Poppy found she could believe him.

Branch was happy. And she knew in her heart that she sure as Hell had something to do with it.

Plopping back with knotted arms and a secret smile, she couldn’t help but squirm as another wave of elation washed over her. Somewhere from a hidden crevice of her mind, came an admittedly childish but overjoyed voice.

_He liiiiiiiiiiikes me!_

While Poppy did attempt to keep her composure, judging by Branch’s quick glance, he undoubtedly heard the high-pitched giggle that she tried her best to stifle.

But instead of a snarky comment at her giddiness, he turned his attention back to the road, with a cross between a chuckle and scoff. An aloof but affectionate sound, in her own personal opinion.

_‘CAUSE HE LIKES ME, HE LIKES ME, HE LIKES ME, HE LIKES-_

Whew, okay. Maybe try to calm down just a little.

“So. You’re feeling… not as nervous?” Branch asked, with a rather strained air of nonchalance. “About seeing your Dad, I mean?”

Oh.

Oh, yeah.

Her smile dropped so fast, she could have sworn she heard a _splat_. All at once, Poppy’s senses seemed to enhance, her brain now buzzing a mile a minute.

She became increasingly aware of the movement of the car, _(too fast, too fast! We’ll get there too soon, gimme a second! Just a second!)_ of the inevitable destination stretching over the horizon, of her father’s bearded face contorted in…well, not anger, oh no, he wouldn’t be angry per say but he _would_ be disappointed and it wouldn’t be just any type of disappointment but that really awful type that eats up her heart in guilt and she really didn’t want-

“Poppy.” His voice, razor-sharp, was like a firm grip on her hand before she could dive into the muddled cesspit of her own flyaway mindset. “Are you okay?”

“Yes!” She snapped, immediately taken aback by how forceful it came across. “Uh, I mean… not really? Like, I’m gonna do it, I’m definitely gonna do it. I’m just… kinda-kinda panicky,”

“Everything will be fine,” Branch assured her. “And after you tell him, you won’t have to stress anymore. You’ll feel better afterwards. I promise.”

“I know, I know. It’s-it’s just like being really little again, y’know?” Poppy glanced up, itchy fingers twiddling in a knot. “Like, you got in trouble at school and Ms. Bundinson writes you a note to give to your parents and-”

“And it wasn’t even that big a deal,” He commented, a noticeably frustrated edge to his tone. “Sometimes kids don’t do homework, sometimes they talk in class. Do teachers really have to-?”

“Nah, buddy. I tried to steal an iguana.”

A beat.

Slowly, but surely, Branch’s neck craned in her direction and from the sound of his voice, she could clearly envision a pair of incredulous eyes widened like dinner plates. _“What?”_

“Yeah, uh, funny story,” She chuckled, with a scratch to the scalp. “Remember that iguana we used to have in the science lab?”

“Fluffy? Yeah.”

“Right! So, uh, me and Dad may have gotten into a _teensy_ argument that morning ‘cause I wanted a pet and he wouldn’t let me. Soooooo, I may have snuck into the science lab during lunch and-”

_“Why?!”_

“I dunno, Branch! Childhood rebellion? Ever heard of it?”

“Well, yeah, I broke three windows!”

“Oooooooh,” She sucked a sharp breath through her teeth. “Yeah, I remember that. A dark day.”

“Tell me about it…” Branch grumbled.

The conversation ebbed away, the story of Branch’s suspension not a pleasant memory for either of them.

Left alone with her thoughts, Poppy only grew more restless as the dreaded moment impended.

_It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay,_

It wasn’t as though she needed constant reassurance. Just a little something to get her through this car ride without a last-minute decision to tuck and roll. (Branch probably wouldn’t appreciate another heart attack.)

A distraction, an outlet, _anything!_

Alright, what was the last thing that succeeded in soothing her worries?

The car finally reached the end of endlessly curving paths and Branch turned out to a narrow stretch of a road.

A cheerful orange glow of collaborative street lamps illuminated the distant Troll Town, little buildings hung below a gently tinting sky. The first glimpse of morning loomed under pistachio hills.

_“What if it’s all a big mistake? What if it’s more than I can take?”_

The melody fell weakly from her lips, the realization of her words coming only after they had been uttered. Poppy hadn’t decided on a song exactly. She just plucked the first tune from her head and let it slip out as naturally as breathing.

Because goddammit, she felt like she needed to sing something right now.

Branch turned, a hint of shock evident in the snap of his neck, insistence on road safety momentarily forgotten.

Short-lived, however, as his eyes hastily shot dead center within a few speechless ticks.

Poppy watched him. He didn’t protest this time.

_“No,”_

With one simple word that she voiced far firmer than any other, Poppy could have sworn she made out an upwards twitch of his lip.

She continued with a shake of her head.

_“I can’t think that way ‘cause I know-”_

A familiar song, a comforting song.

_“-that I’m really, really, really gonna be okay!”_

She drummed her hand rhythmically against the dashboard.

_“HEY!”_

Branch jumped.

Poppy cracked a grin, rolling down the window and revelling in the whooshing breeze.

_“I’M NOT GIVING UP TODAY!”_

The volume could only increase as she leaned out, pushing flyaway hair out of her face.

_“THERE’S NOTHING GETTING IN MY WAY! AND IF YOU KNOCK KNOCK ME OVER, I WILL GET BACK UP AGAIN!”_

At this point, Poppy was yelling, her lungs at maximum capacity as she belted out every doubt and nagging fear.

_“OHHH, IF SOMETHING GOES A LITTLE WRONG!”_

All underlying stress, did not magically melt away. Not by a longshot. But that was fine, it wasn’t supposed to. At least not yet.

_“WELL, YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND BRING IT ON!”_

And maybe not everything would turn out okay.

_“’CAUSE IF YOU KNOCK, KNOCK ME OVER-!”_

But Poppy still liked to look on the bright side.

_“I-”_

_“I will get back up again…”_

The second voice did not shout, nor did it make any effort to be identified over Poppy’s vociferous song. But she heard him.

And if her head didn’t swivel his way with that stupidly wide grin of hers, then who would she be?

As if timed, they passed a streetlamp, the subtle streak giving her a fleeting but satisfying view of Branch’s sheepish expression.

“Okay, you don’t have to look at me like that, I get it. Poppy’s big song. Her big _solo_ song. Keep going, I won’t-”

She grabbed his free hand, probably risking their lives in the process. But luckily, Branch didn’t crash the car.

“Wanna know something I happen to be pretty fond of right now?”

“....What?”

Poppy smiled. “Duets!”

His head ducked over the steering wheel and she could practically see the internalized struggle of biting down a smartass retort. But with a steadying sigh, he looked up again, fighting to hold back his grin. “Okay.”

And they sang.

Troll Town unfurled beneath their tires but the singing did not stop.

They sang as if the radio was playing.

They sang as if it wasn’t the early hours of the morning.

They sang as if this hadn’t been a day of Heaven and Hell fused into one.

They just sang, happy, loud and unapologetic.

_“I **WILL** GET BACK UP AGAIN!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [looks like he found her](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/163871033348)
> 
> [A confused hippie](https://theobsessedmoose.tumblr.com/post/162953512134)
> 
> [Greeeey](https://thee-cactus-child.tumblr.com/post/162889066006)
> 
> [Some quality faces](https://allthingstrolls.tumblr.com/post/162832061271)


	21. Chapter 21

Branch wasn’t familiar with a sense of belonging and that was normal.

Too short for Bergen Town, too grouchy for the Snack Pack and his whole history with his hometown was a cluttered disaster of outbursts and mistakes, leaving him tainted in the residents’ eyes.

He just wasn’t the perfect puzzle piece type and he had long since grown accustomed to living as such.

It came as an annoyance at first but Poppy chipped away at that mentality little by little. Branch found himself feeling like he _should_ be there. Because if he wasn’t, she would surely pester him until he was standing by her side again.

Eventually, she no longer had to drag him into place as he was already there. He fell to her side like the click of two magnets. And she welcomed him, with a radiant smile tossed over her shoulder as if he wasn’t a jagged husk of a person that had difficulty fitting in anywhere.

Because if there was one place on earth Branch now felt he rightfully belonged, it was right next to Poppy. And everywhere she stepped, was somewhere he felt he could be. The world was less structured to keep him out and the subject of people became far less of a challenge.

Maybe belonging did not come naturally to him but Branch (with the help of Poppy) had been slowly but surely chiselling out his own space for his puzzle piece to fit.

He could handle himself without Poppy, he knew that. But her shadow still lingered in his space, itched beneath his skin and the very essence of her urged him on, despite the girl herself being nowhere in sight.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting her physically close. And right now, Branch could only guess it was every prior moment of nerve-wracking, mind-racing intimacy that made stepping away from her as hard as it was.

For the most part, Poppy had been the anxious one tonight, babbling her fears, panic ricocheting against the car, and uproariously singing her stress away.

You would imagine it would rattle her considerably, to finally see the man she had been dreading. But as the car engine shushed and a bleary-eyed Mayor Peppy hobbled out to the porch to greet them (Had the Snack Pack gotten a hold of him? How long had he been awake?) a weak, dying whine escaped her throat.

As if she were a lost child at the carnival who just spotted her parent amidst the crowd, all hesitation evaporated. She threw her door open and in a whir of shocking pink and baby blue, she shot through the lawn and dove into her father’s arms, before Branch had even the time to blink.

And he knew that in that moment, it was not him who belonged by Poppy’s side. It was her Dad.

But as the tired man ushered them inside, Branch was relieved of awkward shuffling in the corridor. Struggling to maintain his distraught daughter, Peppy rushed out an offer for the guest bedroom. Branch accepted in an instant, fleeing the little family scene that he so obviously had no business intruding.

At least this time he wasn’t confined to playing with his phone on the floor.

But, well…

Branch was currently playing with his phone on the floor.

Alright, listen, he wasn’t eavesdropping. That wasn’t the intent here. Branch had been more than happy to escape behind closed doors and maybe, just maybe, get a hold of this whole batshit _insane_ situation that had been repeatedly adding to itself, like senselessly blaring traffic on a busy freeway.

But after climbing the carpeted stairs and turning for his room, he halted on instinct. Branch stood in place with a momentary blink of shock before he felt that familiar twinge of lukewarm frustration because…Poppy. Motherfucking Poppy. This was her fault. The rickety promise of seeing her one last time tonight, holding his entire body captive. Now, that just wasn’t fair.

Whatever fated red string (…Or blue…? Or pink? Eh, fuck it.) was bonding them together, must have reached its limit as Branch couldn’t go any further.

So, he stepped back.

Grumbling and reluctant but he knew damn well, that if he were to go to the guest room, all he would do is pace until morning.

Branch had slumped and sunk opposite the wall by the staircase and while he didn’t listen, he heard. Down below, words were muffled behind the living room doors but two voices carried through the floorboards. Soothing, quiet voices. Peculiar for such an exuberant pair but in times like this, what did he expect?

He picked up a few ‘I love you’s because why the fuck wouldn’t he? There had been...a lot of ‘I love you’s in the past twenty-four hours. Branch’s newfound ability to catch the murmured phrase from a story above them, could only be the Universe’s creative way of taunting him.

_I gotta hand it to you, asshole. This joke is a lot less cruel than all the other shit you put me through. Haha. Funny._

His thumb hovering knowingly over his phone, Branch braced himself. With a light prod, the screen lit up and as predicted, he had more messages now than he had accumulated in the last three months. All from that goddamn group chat.

It was long dead, the last text having been added over half an hour ago. But in his ever-growing impatience to…(he sighed) say goodnight to Poppy, Branch read through the explosion of an exchange to occupy himself. He began with his own message, which assured them that she had been found.

His first assumption was that nobody in the Snack Pack was capable of texting as the responses were a steady stream of caps locked, excitedly incoherent alphabet vomit, littered with exclamation points.

But as everyone had thrown out what must have been their most complex, philosophical thoughts, did the messages start reading in English.

Branch scrolled the thread, skimming through celebrations, more party plans and eventual desires to get some sleep.

_Well, thank God. Sleep, you idiots._

But one person in particular, had other ideas.

A glitter brained bastard who stirred the peacefully lulled group into an utter frenzy, with One. Single. Line.

_‘did branch tell her tho?’_

All Hell broke loose.

More caps locks, multiples of his own name spelt incorrectly but in haste and enough fucking question marks to make him feel like there were microphones being rammed in his face.

Branch could hear their voices screech in his head. With every _‘BRNACH’_ and _‘ARE U ALIVE???? TELL TELL TELL’_ , he felt his blood pressure rise, an embarrassed heat spreading up his neck.

They’re not even here, how the fuck-?

‘DID YOUY TELL HER LOVE HER??’

Kinda.

_‘WAT ABT FB BLUE?’_

No! Of course, he didn’t te-…Wait, why? Should he…?

_‘OK BUT WHAT DID U SAY TO HER THO?’_

Mind your damn business.

_‘BRAAAAANCH!!!!!!!!!!!’_

For fuck sake, guys, calm down.

_‘DID U KISS HER?????’_

“Branch?”

It was safe to say he malfunctioned. Shooting up like a startled bullet and catching a blur of socked feet, Branch’s head smashed against a landscape painting. He cursed, Poppy yelped, his phone clattered to the floor.

She hopped forward, reflexively grabbing the frame before it fell, and pinning him to the wall in the process.

_DID YOU KISS HER? DID YOU KISS HER? DID YOU KISS HER? DID YOU KISS HER?_

A single petrified second. Just long enough to process cinnamon freckles and eyes bright as spotlights. Her breath tickled his top lip and reality quaked.

“Okay!” Branch puffed with a flip of his stomach. He speedily ducked out from under Poppy’s arm and swooped up his phone with jittering fingers, his examination for any cracks going on far longer than necessary.

Still couldn’t leave her presence if he wanted to. Jesus Christ, had he really been so zoned that he didn't hear her climb the stairs?

Poppy had not turned to face him, thoroughly invested in adjusting the crooked painting. Damn, how straight did it have to be? This shouldn’t be taking so long.

Her shoulders rose and fell in an unsteady exhale and Branch wondered how much this goddamn frame was fraying her nerves.

“Gotta be careful,” She sounded slightly winded, reaching up to give the canvas an admiring stroke. A wishy-washy watercolor of the annual Troll Town street-side fair. “This is one of Daddy’s favourite birthday gifts.”

“Who painted it?”

“Harper.” Her voice relaxed. “I commissioned her. Mom used to paint all the time so Dad, he… likes to have paintings hung all over the house. Tried to make one myself buuuuut…Heh, still gotta work on my skill.”

“Could have drawn him his Troll self.” Branch shrugged.

A tired chuckle. “Could’ve…”

Her head was thrown up in sudden realization. “Wait, no, yeah, I could!” Poppy whipped around, spiked with excitement. “Next year for sure! I could design his own cute little Troll and then make it into a painting. Dunno where he’d hang it though…”

Her train of thought seemed to follow an invisible circular track as Poppy was now pacing. Around Branch. And it was stressful.

“I mean the bathroom is always an option but I feel like it wouldn’t really have bathroom-y vibe. Maybe he’ll put it in his bedroom but ahhh! I want him to show it off to guests, y’know? I worked hard on it…w-well, I _will_ work hard on it. Once it’s finished anyway, okay I’m gettin’ a little ahead of myself…”

Branch spun like a dog chasing its tail, struggling to keep his eyes on her.

“But anyways, I’m thinkin’ pink hair. Like my pink hair but probably with a few grey touches. Like hey, the man got lazy and refuses to dye it anymore and that’s all fine and dandy but I feel it is my duty as his daughter to call him out for being old. But yeah, anyway-”

Alright, he was getting dizzy.

“Y’know what? This is a good idea. This is a _really_ good idea. I should make everybody their own personal Troll painting for when birthdays come around, I mean it can’t be that hard-”

Stop her.

“I thiiiiiiink… yeah, it’s Smidge! Her birthday’s comin’ up soon so I could definitely-oh,”

Branch snatched the back of her collar, bringing her to a sudden halt. She appeared bewildered by this development.

“Hey. Lunatic. Mind if I make a suggestion?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Poppy replied, arms dangling forward, having fast accepted her inability to move.

Steering her around by the shoulders, he gave her forehead three firm pokes. “Get. Some. Sleep.”

Her eyes shut tight, teeth closing over her tongue as she snickered. She then abruptly looked up, giving Branch as a once-over as if she had never seen him before. “Wait, why are you up?”

“Um.”

Well, fuck, he didn’t think he’d have to explain it to her.

_Because I haven’t seen you face-to-face in over twenty-four hours. In fact, the last time we interacted was over the phone but that kinda ended terribly because I’m a panicking dipshit. Also, I got drunk. And I told Gristle he was beautiful. And I made Guy Diamond cry. It’s been a weird and stressful day, alright? And to top it all off, I was terrified that we had lost you and now that I found you, it’s become very hard to walk away from you and I-_

“Branch?”

“Just checking,” He forced out. “Um. If you… uh, y-you were worried about talking to your Dad, right? I wanted to see if you were okay afterwards.”

“Awwww,” While her wheedle was teasing, a grateful smile split her face. “Do you caaaaaaaaaare about me?”

Branch scoffed, automatically knotting his arms. “Not in the slightest.”

Poppy promptly burst into a fit of pleasant laughter. He was no doctor yet but after the day she had, Branch couldn’t imagine a healthier sound.

“It’s not that funny,” He said through a poorly concealed smirk.

“Nah, bud,” She clutched tightly at her stomach. “That’s the best joke you’ve ever told. Can’t believe you made me laugh at sarcasm.”

Branch rolled his eyes, but said nothing as she released her laughter, waiting patiently for it to die away.

“So,” He felt himself soften. “Is that a yes, then? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m fine.” Poppy shrugged, her cheery expression dimming. “Talked stuff through with Daddy. Told him all about it. Got all that business outta the way. I-…I really did miss him.”

Branch spared a glance down the stairs. “Is he…coming up?”

She shook her head, with a tap against her knee. “Bad leg. Tries to manage the stairs when he can but when he can’t, he likes the couch. He’s too tired right now.”

_Tired._

With all the self-restraint he could muster, Branch took a step back.

Poppy glanced down to the space between them, with a flicker of disappointment. She looked to him questionably.

“Alright,” He said sharply. “I have to be honest, Poppy. The idea of you sleep deprived is a terrifying concept to me and I’m not fucking having it. You’re delirious enough as it is.”

Her jaw fell in mock offense. “Delirious?! Figures, a grump like you can’t even appreciate an upbeat personality. Unbelievable!”

Branch gave her a drawn out and dramatic “Sssssssssshhhhhhhh!” with his forefinger. “You’re tired, confused and you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Poppy pouted.

He smirked. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning or…”

Shoving his fists in his jacket pockets, he turned on his heel. “It is morning so… afternoon? Midday? Whenever the Hell you wake up,”

Although he managed two whole steps (an achievement) Branch still couldn’t will himself to keep walking without at least spitting it out. “And, uh. Goodnight, Poppy.”

_Too soft, dumbass._

His tone tampered considerably with the atmosphere. Tenderness hung in the air and it was a little too much for Branch to take right now. He wouldn’t have to worry about it if he fled right this instant. But in that split second that he hesitated, Poppy caught him.

“Branch?”

He stood rooted to the spot, as if he had been lassoed. “Yes?”

“Are _you_ tired?”

Well, yeah, he usually was. But it was strictly from a mental standpoint. A type of tiredness that had no positive affect on his insomnia whatsoever. Useless, really.

Branch’s head dragged to the ceiling, brow tightening and his eyes screwing shut. Smudges of neon colors danced behind his eyelids. He was most definitely going to be left alone with his thoughts far longer than he would like. “No.”

“Um, do you… do you wanna be alone right now?”

_Just say yes and walk away._

Chancing one last look back at her, Branch felt his answer evaporate on his tongue.

Poppy was steps away, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she scratched up her forearm. Cheeks dusted pink as desperate eyes bore into his own. She was pleading.

It was an instance that jarred Branch, stunning him into a frozen eyed stare.

You see, Branch loved Poppy.

And apparently, Poppy loved Branch too.

He wondered if the floor really shook just now or if it was just his trembling legs.

Several barriers were standing in shambles, and fifty-one cards hovered between the two. They whirled and twirled within no man’s land, forming the shape of an invisible but distinctly prominent paper pachyderm.

Branch spoke, as honest as a mirror and as hushed as the world around them. “No.”

She remained subdued, assumedly influenced by the current mood, but he still caught the subtle eagerness displayed in her smile and in the wriggle as her arm snapped behind her back. “Welp! That would make two of us, wouldn’t it?”

He rose a sceptical eyebrow. “You’re honestly telling me you’re not tired right now?”

Poppy shook her head, rocking her upturned heel from side to side. “Gotta be real with ya, Branch. Never felt more awake in my life. With all that’s happened n’ all. Also, with you, um… after having you there when I needed you, i-it’s just, uh, how do I say this….?”

“You want me close.”

_Jesus fucking Christ, how many screws loose have you got? Think before you speak._

Poppy’s already rosy face brightened. But even in her glow, Branch noticed beneath the twitch of her smile, was an even wider grin that she was struggling to hold down. “Nooooooow you’re catchin’ on!”

Oh shit, was he?

In one fluid motion, she swung on her hip, only giving a quick glance back to beckon him on with her chin.

Despite needing a moment to jolt his feet back into action, (Catching on? Catching on to _what?!_ ) Branch followed. As they both stepped inside, he pushed her bedroom door closed. It shut with a _click_ , sealing their fate.

Although, much to his annoyance, that goddamn paper elephant still managed to flutter in. Looks like it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“So, what’s the plan?” Branch found his voice, thankfully succeeding his natural deadpan. “I’m guessing I’m here to keep you entertained until you fall asleep. You just gonna dance around me and make bad jokes until you pass out?”

Poppy had drifted towards her dressing table and was currently shedding her bangles. She spun around with a parted lipped smile, hands flying to her waist. “I hope you’re not implying that’s what hanging out with me is _always_ like?”

“No, not at all.”

With a smug nod, she turned her back to him, settling into her stool.

Branch was at her side in seconds and while they didn’t lock gazes, they looked to each other in the view of Poppy’s glitter glue and sticker skinned mirror. “I forgot the part where you suck straight out of an icing bag and make me time you.”

She didn’t miss a beat, her head bouncing from side to side in deep seated passive aggression. “Did you also forget the part where you _don’t_ time me?”

“Are you honestly still mad about that?” He groused. “I told you I wanted nothing to do with that madness. I didn’t time you as an act of protest.”

“I swear it was my personal best, Branch! Roughly eleven seconds,” She threw her arms out in theatrical mourning. “But I guess we’ll never know! C’mon, bud, what are roommates for?”

Branch hummed, scratching his chin as he feigned consideration. “To cut you off once you’ve had enough frosting and hopefully keep you alive.”

Noticing her reaching for a hairbrush, he thoughtlessly plucked off her headband and draped it over the mirror.

Poppy nodded, a silent moment of appreciation dedicated to his quip as she slung her hopeless pink mane over her shoulder. “And to kick back and relax on the couch as I stand outside the door with my arms full, yelling to be let in?” She simpered, combing serenely.

“Yup. And to narrate my life in song despite my frequent requests not to.” Branch countered.

“To ignore me and keep walking when I’m calling from the other side of the street.”

“To make me chase you through said street.”

Was this really a competition over who held the most spite? Because if so, _holy shit_ , Poppy was going to get crushed.

“To get me kicked out of a movie theatre ‘cause you couldn’t shut your goddamn gobsmacker about the Bug and Monkey intercourse!” Poppy had swivelled around to fix him with a playful look.

“To _engage_ me in the Bug and Monkey debate.” Branch was bent forward, one hand on his hip, the other on the dresser as he smirked down at her. “That was just as much your fault, as it was mine.”

“Uhhh…” She tapped thoughtfully against the stool. “To-to... oh, yeah!” A lightbulb dinged. “To always, always, _always_ have an unnecessary smartass comment.”

“To show up at my place of work, unannounced,” He shot back with a blatant air of satisfaction.

_I could do this for hours. Try me._

She had always been the type of little girl to change the rules of Candyland when it was clear she wasn’t winning. But she had matured past that, right?

Well, miraculously, one of Poppy’s age-old characteristics returned with full force, with the sole objective of biting Branch in the ass.

She was on the losing end. So, it was time to twist the game her way.

“To try your hardest to win me a dolphin just ‘cause I thought it was cute.” Said Poppy with that utter simplicity of hers, serving just as well as a stab to the chest.

Betrayal. Unforgivable betrayal.

Significantly discombobulated but still pushing himself to continue (Not giving up today, motherfucker.) Branch stammered out a retort. “T-to-to leave glitter and glue and paper clippings all over our fucking coffee table!”

She beamed, clear, rich sincerity gleaming in the light of her eyes. “To make me pancakes with gummy bears that one time I had a hangover,”

His betrayal was hot enough to set his cheeks ablaze. “To destroy every meal with unholy quantities of sugar!”

“To hang out with me at the arcade long after your shift was over!” She carried on.

“To insist on picking me up bridal style and then dropping me!” His voice cracked.

“To let me use up all your tokens to play DDR!”

Okay, Branch was being personally attacked.

Shit, could he even breathe?

“To-to, um-”

“To roller-skate with me! To take me on a date when I was feeling bad!” Poppy hurried out over his aimless mumble.

His back snapped out. “It wasn’t a-!”

“C’mon, Branch, it _was_ a date and we both know it. Anyways!” She was cheerily listing them off on her fingers now. “To buy me candy and popcorn for the movie, to take me to see the ducks ‘cause you knew I’d like them,”

What was this, the rapid-fire round?

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” He tried frantically, wondering if his face was as noticeably boiling as it felt.

“To kiss me by the bridge just so I could forget stuff and enjoy the moment!” Poppy blurted out, finally stopping to catch her breath.

And fuck, she could take all the time she wanted. Branch needed a breather too.

He transferred all his strength to the palm rested on the dresser, head ducked as he mindlessly examined the marks and swirls of the wooden surface. Flustered and exasperated, he dragged a damp hand up his weathered forehead.

However, he immediately realized the flaw in his defence mechanism. Poppy was sitting right below him and only had to scooch her stool forward and tilt her head back, to get a glance at him. She peered up, smiling innocently.

_Don’t look at me like you didn’t just try to murder me._

After an aged, heavy sigh, Branch spoke. “To give me diabetes.” He grumbled.

Her smile only widened, expressing the gentle chide “Don’t be a grump” as clear as any words could.

Several seconds ticked away although it felt like endlessly stretching minutes to Branch.

At least Poppy had momentarily ceased shooting sweet things at him.

His eyes squeezed shut.

“To-…” He began quietly. “To try so hard for me to be happy… to keep making invitations for me even when I always say no, to tell me that grey isn’t all bad…”

He risked cracking one eye open.

Poppy had softened, listening with rapt attention.

“To have fucking put up with me as long as you have-”

“To talk me through an emotional breakdown.” She interrupted, having regained a dash of her competitiveness.

Branch smirked. “Technically, we’ve both been the one to do that. I’ve had a breakdown and so have you.”

“True,” She nodded, rising from her stool and turning to face her dresser.

The wall behind the setup was papered in too many stickers, magazine clippings, photos and drawings to even distinguish as anything but a blurred collage.

“Hey.” Said Poppy softly. “Wanna see somethin’ that’s bound to hit ya in the heart?”

_This entire night has my heart absolutely bludgeoned, Poppy._

“Sure.”

Balanced on her toes, she leaned over the mirror and plucked a stubby cornered photograph from the wall. Blu tack snapped.

Upon being singled out, Branch felt a trace of familiarity in the hazy filter. Poppy offered it to him and his stomach stirred. He felt strange. While there was definite recognition, the image was like being shown a token from another world.

A fresh-faced duo of kids, playing in the snow.

Branch had seen this picture not too long ago, but the eyes laid on it back then, shielded a far more unsettled soul.

“I-…” He croaked, before hastily clearing his throat. “Damn, I was in my prime as a kid. I was adorable. What the fuck happened?”

Poppy chuckled as he handed it back to her. “Nah, you’re still adorable. Just smile more often and you’ll peak for sure,”

Ignoring his blush, she studied the photo with fondness. “Hey, uh, so, funny story…”

“Whenever you say funny story, odds are it isn’t going to be funny. Should I be alarmed?”

She shook her head. “Nonono, it is, I promise. Well, maybe not ‘Ha ha’ funny but y’know… anyways!”

Branch crossed his arms, leaning against the dresser as Poppy indicated the radiator behind it.

“I found one of my old scrapbooks wedged in behind there. I’ve got a ton of scrapbooks and, well, you kinda lose track of the ones you made sometimes. But yeah, so I found it later that night, after you uh… left the ice cream parlor,”

Guilt poked his insides. If Branch remembered correctly, he had stood up, bluntly belting out “No, no, no, no, no,” and left her alone at the table, without so much as a goodbye.

“And I found the picture in it. And it-…it just made me think of you and when we were little and Rosiepuff and…” She trailed off.

“And how you could use it as a weapon against me,” He joked.

Her backhand lightly thwacked his forearm. “I was _worried_ about you, nerd.”

“… I know.”

Poppy sighed. “B-but I was just thinkin’ how I could have just… not found it.”

A silence. One that could possibly be made uneasy if they allowed it.

They shared a long look.

Poppy was apprehensive, features visibly altered by a rather troubling thought.

Branch knew what she was going to ask but let her speak anyway.

“If I had never showed you that picture, would you be living with me at all?”

He didn’t answer right away, which led to a fit of fidgeting on Poppy’s part.

The thing was that Branch did not trust Branch to make good decisions. If that stubborn, hot tempered shit had never seen the picture, he probably would have continued his downwards spiral and sat in his grimy misery pit until he was dead.

As accustomed as he may have been to that life a few months ago, right now, Branch felt… like it wouldn’t be a lot of fun. He didn’t want that. He wanted more.

And God, was he thankful he had more.

“Honestly… I probably wouldn’t.”

“W-would-…” Her voice wavered. “Would you visit?”

Branch shook his head soberly.

“Oh…”

“I’d want to,” He assured, turning back to her crestfallen face. “But I’d never… admit I wanted to. Odds are if it all turned out like that, shit would be…” He chuckled humourlessly at the very notion. “A lot more grey.”

“Whew!” Poppy shivered, regaining a silly expression as she shook out her arms. “Alrighty, we’re gettin’ a little heavy. This-this is makin’ me think of some not-so-fun stuff.”

“Hey.” Branch gave the photo in her hand a gentle flick. “Why don’t we focus on what _has_ happened instead of what could’ve? You _did_ find it. You _did_ show it to me. And we’re pretty damn lucky because of it.”

Four, five, six seconds passed, not a word spoken between them as Poppy processed.

A tiny squeak sounded suddenly from her throat. Branch watched with an amused eye roll as she pulled the picture in and cuddled it close to her chest. He held back on any dry comments. Let her have this.

Peace was soon broken by a single delicate murmur. “I like living with you,”

He scoffed softly. “I know.”

And shit, maybe he didn’t always know. Maybe once upon a time, he was terrified that she wouldn’t. Maybe that was his whole reasoning behind resisting her offer in the first place.

But in the present, the idea of Poppy genuinely enjoying his company was far from wishful thinking and more of, well, a simple fact. A fact that Branch still had to occasionally stand back and ponder but never did he doubt it anymore.

The words rolled pensively around his mouth. Another one of those things he knew in his heart that he _wanted_ to say but it would undoubtedly leave him cringing in embarrassment.

_I like living with you too. A lot. More than I thought I would._

Branch opened his mouth. “I-”

“Oh my God, duh!” Poppy cut him off with a sudden exclaim of realization. “What the heck am I talkin’ about? Sayin’ it like it wasn’t already obvious. _Of course_ , you know, don’t ya?”

“Uh-”

“After I spilled my guts out earlier n’ all.” Her arms fastened tightly over her chest as she risked a glance at him. She shrugged. “Safe to assume I like ya a li’l bit.”

He froze. Whatever he was about to say, yanked itself right back down his throat. “Um. Right. T-that happened.”

“Yep. Uhh, do you…?” Poppy now seemed to understand that they had to deal with the repercussions of her words. “W-we don’t have to bring it up if you don’t wanna. It’s totally fine if we just-”

“No. No, Poppy, I think-” Branch paused. The floating elephant butted maddeningly against his shoulder. His brow twitched. “I think we have to. I mean, if we just let it go ignored, we probably won’t-”

“Be able to talk to each other without it being kinda weird. No, no, you’re right, you’re right, you’re totally right.” She prattled with a rapid nod of her head.

Before he could comment, Poppy had turned on her heel, pacing to the other end of the room. “Okay, okay, okay, so, uh, I’ll-I’ll start.” She hit the opposite wall and turned a swift three-sixty, pointing a finger-gun as if they were engaged in a stand-off. “First off, I’m sorry. I really am, I just-”

“ _You’re_ sorry?!” Branch had to interrupt, dumbfounded. “You don’t have to be sor-”

“Nonono, I do! Listen, _listen_ , Branch,” Poppy waited, expression stern before she could be certain Branch’s arguments had quieted.

She continued. “I initiated the phone call-”

“I was _trying_ to-”

“Hush! I initiated the call in the first place. And-and okay, so, I can explain this part.” Poppy held her trembling hands out in a plea for him to bear with her. “So, I didn’t mean to say… y’know…”

Wearing an obvious look, she gave a wave of her wrist. “That I love you,” She mumbled through closed teeth. “But I did, without thinkin’ about it ‘cause, y’know, I’m _me_. But then I thought ‘Heck, let’s go for it’ ‘cause for some Godforsaken reason, I thought I was on some timer to confess my love or die, when really it was just that Creek was gonna be there soon and I felt like the stakes were higher than they really were and-”

She stopped suddenly to take a breath.

Branch’s folded arms rubbed uneasily against his chest, only growing guiltier as the time stretched on. Poppy may have initiated the call but Branch had ended it. And fucking Hell, it had been hours and it was still gnawing away at him.

“Poppy, you really don’t have to-”

“And you were at work!” She regained her second wind, launching right back into her rant, her energy panicky, awful, but still downright vigorous. “I had no idea what you could’ve been doin’ but I chose to take up your time with all this crap anyway! Who the Hell was I to be dumpin’ all this love shit on ya? And on the….oh my God…”

He cocked his head at her visible distress. “Are you okay?”

“On the phone, Branch, on the phone!” Poppy cried, with a wild wave of her arms. “I called you while you were at work to have a big, long, mushy, all over the place ramble.” She was pacing again. “And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I decided that it’d be a _fantastic_ idea to be like ‘Hey, I love you, by the way,’. Over the fucking phone!”

She shook her head, knuckles thumping either side of her temples. “Like, I thought it was a good idea for some reason! No, no, y’know what? I didn’t think at all, I just blurted stuff out and it all kinda went downhill from there. No wonder you hung up on me!”

“Wait, no, hang on,” His will to argue was retained in a flash. “That’s not why I hung up!”

“Ohhhhh, so lemme guess, your phone died?”

“W-well, no…”

Poppy squinted, scepticism building. “Did you hang up because of what I said, Branch?” She asked patiently, wearing an air of serenity he didn’t buy for a second.

Branch hesitated. “Um. I mean…technically, but-but…” His directionless explanation faded into silence.

This response did not soothe her frenzy in the slightest. “A-a-alright, so-so um,” Her fingertips batted against her bottom lip. “So, don’t think I’m crazy for sayin’ this-well, well uh, you can if you want but you get what I’m saying, Anyway! I-I... I kinda think you like me?”

A pause. Just long enough for Branch to get a hold of his vocabulary and for Poppy to receive another shot of dread.

“I-”

“I mean, it’s not like I know for sure, b-but earlier, n-not long ago earlier but like an hour ago earlier. You were singin’ that song and I know it was a line of the song n’ all but I could’ve _sworn_ when you looked at me, you-you were-”

“Poppy-”

She continued to chatter. Branch felt his face soften as his theory grew likelier by the syllable. Poppy didn’t want to stop talking because she was afraid of whatever he had to say. But Jesus, that was no reason to yap until your throat burns out.

“But I might have jumped to conclusions just a little bit and I shouldn’t have done that and maybe that’s why you hung up in the first place and that’s fine but I was so sure you liked me. Or maybe that was just a weird hope that I had that kinda made me see things different than they were ‘cause…”

Another wavering breath as Poppy hung her head. “I want you to like me.” She murmured. “I really, really want you to like me. A-and I dunno if that’s bad or not but I-”

“I do!”

His tone had to be sharp. If it didn’t slice her words like a blade, then she would never hear him. Holy fuck, she would never _stop._

Branch shuffled uncomfortably in the newly fell and prior assumed appreciated silence. But now it just felt as though he had been set under a spotlight.

Poppy stared at him, with widened eyes and a hanging bottom lip.

At a loss for how to continue, Branch swallowed and repeated the few simplistic words he had already mastered. “I do. I do, I do,”

Spoken again and again, as he strode across the room until he hovered in her space.

“I do, I do,”

He held his arms outstretched, palms exposed. And with her tiny nod of invitation, they clasped gently around her elbows. Poppy blushed at the touch, glancing up as Branch made eye contact.

“I do.”

And while he braced himself for a surge of inane fretting to fester within his mind, it never came. He was nervous, of course, but damn, he _told_ her. And weirdly enough…it was a huge relief.

Poppy’s stiff frame fell loose in his hands and then, a laugh. A quiet, incredulous laugh. “You do.”

Branch chuckled, his stomach flipping. “Yeah, uh,” He wracked his brain for something snarky to say in this situation. “I mean, shit, Poppy. It’d be pretty obvious if you read the poems I wrote.”

_Your genius astounds me more and more every day. That was sarcasm, by the way, what the fuck are you doing?_

“You mean the ones you’re pretending you don’t write?” She had regained a hint of smirk. “I’m down, just show ‘em to me.”

“You read them every fucking week, Poppy.”

For a moment, her smirk was frozen in place, her eyes drifting elsewhere as she tried to comprehend the joke. “Um, what?”

The final card in the deck slipped between them.

_I give up. Fine, go ahead. Your funeral._

Branch cleared his throat. “F.B Blue.”

Poppy rose a brow. “What about him?”

Slowly this time. “T-the first letters. Just think about it. F.B.”

Her head dipped in thought, as if she were arranging invisible puzzle pieces, her lips mouthing the letters on repeat.

He waited, nerves drawn thin, before a high-pitched squeal shattered their little mumble bubble. Poppy’s head snapped up, fixing him with a silent demand for confirmation.

Branch simply nodded, letting out a startled laugh, as he felt small hands tap-tap-tap urgently against his chest.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, _holy shit_ , Branch!”

“You’re taking it well,” He commented, folding his arms behind his back, as she broke back into another floor-burning pace.

“W-when-when did this even happen?!” Her voice was crackling with shock.

“Uhh, remember when you showed me the magazine contest? Yeah, I entered about a week afterwards-”

“So, F.B has been…?”

“Yup.”

“B-but you said he was probably bullshitting all his poems. Does that mean-?”

“Nah. A lie. It lowered your suspicion though, didn’t it?”

“I guess,” She murmured half-mindedly.

Poppy came to a halt with a stomp of her foot, fingers rushing to rake through her hair. “I’m sorry but I-I still can’t get over that they’re your fucking _initials_ , Branch! How did I not catch that?!”

Branch shrugged, hands in his pockets. He always imagined this moment as being under the hot-seat. However, right now he just felt like a press conference guy, calming confirming or denying as his audience fell apart in front of him. "In fairness, nobody did."

“S-so all the sad poems?”

“Mine.”

“The happier poems?”

“Also, mine.”

“B-but-” It hit her. Poppy turned to face him, slow as molasses, a wobbling hope evident in every feature.

“May I ask-…” She began, a cocky tease hidden beneath her uncertainty. “-About that girl F.B Blue keeps mentioning?”

While he still flushed, Branch couldn’t help but give her a look, a hand popping to his hip as the other gestured towards her. “I’ll give you three guesses who she could possibly be.” He said dryly.

Save a high, shaking laugh, Poppy didn’t speak for a while. She stood steps away, assumedly grasping at F.B Blue lines from memory, hoping to catch a description of herself. Well, she must have found a few as her smile only grew wider as the silence stretched on.

“Wow,” Poppy sighed, grinning ear to ear as she disbelievingly caught her forehead in her hand. “You love me!” She said suddenly, absolutely ecstatic.

Her joy was contagious as it immediately shot his way. Branch’s lips were tugged up against his will, as he threw his arms out in a shrug. They fell limp against his sides. “I love you,”

His insides seemed to churn upside-down which may have been unpleasant at any other time but fuck, Branch didn’t notice. Nothing could be all that bad right now.

“Alrighty, buddy, sorry I gotta do this to ya but-”

“I do _not_ like that the sound of that!” Branch staggered back as Poppy charged towards him at full speed.

“Unscheduled hug time!”

She pounced, throwing her entire body against him. Her sudden release of weight sent him stumbling until he hit the wall. The chill of a poster shocked the back of his head, leading to an extreme unbalance with the burst of warmth between them.

Branch snorted. “I was close to banging my head there. Imagine if I got a concussion just now.”

“Cut the sass and hug me, nerd.” Came her voice, mumbled against his shirt. The girl attached to that voice currently had his entire chest and torso encased.

“Not that your observation skills aren’t great but you’ll notice I’m already hugging you,” He pointed out, nodding down to his own arms which had twined tightly around her. (Something Branch wholeheartedly believed, was an action of their own accord. He didn’t remember making that decision at all.)

“Well then, never stop.” She said, almost firm in her statement.

He propped his chin on her head and gave a squeeze. “Believe me, I don’t fucking want to.”

“Awwww, does our grump actually _like_ hug time now?” Poppy cooed.

“Don’t read too much into it.” He grumbled.

“You hugged me earlier too,”

“What did I just say?”

“Do you miss hugging a lot when we were little?”

_Apparently. The needs for physical contact has been kinda weirdly strong tonight._

“Here’s a suggestion,” His palm settled on the back of her head and pushed her face into his chest. “Sssssssshutting the fuck up,”

She shrieked out her protests through uncontainable giggles, before ultimately grabbing his shoulders and tearing away. “That settles it. I am no longer taking suggestions.”

“Okay, fair enough, but at least set up a box or something so I can still write mine down and you can read them when you’re open again.”

“If the suggestion at the top of your list ain’t a second date, then I’m not interested.”

Well, that did it. Every discernible trace of Branch’s snark vanished in that instant. “A-a second what now?”

“You’re dense, not deaf.” Poppy smirked.

He cleared his throat. “Right, right but um, I just… y-you don’t have to, y’know. Like this whole Creek thing has been rough and if you want to wait a while then-”

“Branch,” She said patiently. “I know you’re worried about what I do or don’t wanna do with myself but like, I can make choices just fine.”

Her head shook airily. “My relationship with Creek was pretty uh-…” A thoughtful scrunch of the nose. “-paper-thin, I guess. But this right here… this doesn’t feel like a second shot but more of… the real deal?”

“You… sure?” Branch questioned cautiously, instinctively loosening his grip on their embrace.

That bouncy smile popped her dimples. “I’m pretty good at getting back up again. It’s a skill of mine.” A pause. “But what about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“How do you feel about-…” Poppy shrugged, with a feigned nonchalance. “-a second date?”

_Well, shit, Poppy. I have no idea. Getting this far is enough of a mind-fuck already._

Branch pulled away with a nervous exhale, scratching at his scalp. “P-positively? I think…”

Her outstretched arms, still grabby for his touch, fell slowly as she looked him over with a cock of her head. “You think?”

“No, I’m, uh, I’m pretty damn sure. I just-…I-I’m having a tough time being certain of any of this. I’m still-…” He swallowed firmly. “-adjusting.”

Poppy nodded, curiosity melting into understanding. “Yeah, I getcha,” Seemingly unhappy with the rift Branch had created, she stepped back into his space.

“Been a long day,” She murmured, voice distantly dreamy as she loomed closer.

Branch groaned, as the past twenty-four hours flew by his mind in a whirlwind of euphoria and chaos. Shit, how had he not died yet?

Then again, he did have a very distinct memory of downing vodka with no taste whatsoever. Had that been a near death experience, or…?

“I know. It’s been a fucking monster of a day and so much shit went down, both good and bad, and honestly, I don’t even know how to-…are you listening?”

“Huh?” Poppy looked up, visibly disoriented. “O-oh, oh, yeah. Yeah, of course I am.”

“You were staring at… w-what the fuck was it, my chin?!” Branch instantly snapped his hand over the area in question, fingers searching for any signs of bumps. “Listen, I’ve been under a lot of stress and I don’t care if it’s breaking out right now, it’s not polite to-”

“That’s not what I’m staring at, you nerd!” She said, a poorly refrained laugh slipping through her words.

“Then, what was it?”

“Nothing! I wasn’t even staring, I was paying attention!”

Branch scoffed. “You were _not_ ,”

“Nonono I was, I swear on my life!” She decreed, throwing a definite palm over her heart.

“Please,” He rolled his eyes. “You were yammering about death by red peppers today. Your life wavers on a very thin line already, Poppy.”

“Alright, fine. Somebody else’s life!”

“Whose? Mine? No way, if I’m gonna die, I sure as Hell, won’t let it be because of your gamble.”

Poppy drooped with a frustrated pout, before setting eyes on the image behind Branch. He practically heard the idea _ding_ as her finger shot forward dramatically. “His life!”

Branch rotated in his spot, to examine the enormous stretch of a poster and felt himself wither.

A plastic smiled, lifeless eyed, handsomely aggravating face stared blankly ahead of him.

_Why can’t I escape this man?_

“So, let me get this straight.” He began, voice strained neutral, as if this wasn’t the stupidest conversation they have ever had. “You are swearing…on Justin Timberlake’s life?”

Poppy nodded, looking equally solemn. “Feel free to proceed.”

It took a will of steel to not call this nonsense out any further but through a deep sigh, Branch managed to power on.

“Okay, so this entire day has just been a-a fucking trip, Poppy! Like-like okay, I showed up to work this morning like half dead and Biggie had to talk me through it until I was even a person again. Also, Cooper is weirdly cryptic, am I crazy for thinking that or…?”

“Uh huh…”

“And of course, the whole phone call was a mess!”

“Yeah…” Poppy nodded, clearly contained within a daze.

Branch glowered, before fixing his face into a wide, sarcastic grin. “Oh, and I should probably mention, I got drunk!” He said cheerily. “Like really drunk. I’m talking absolutely fucking hammered. Gristle was there and apparently I compared his heart to a big mac, it was really weird.”

“Cool…”

His expression dropped, irritated. “You are not paying attention.”

“Uh huh,” Her gaze remained engrossed with his lower portrait.

Branch briefly wondered if flicking her forehead would snap her back to reality or if this was a whole sleepwalking deal? Should he just wait for her to come to? Should he draw a moustache on her face to pass the time? What was the etiquette here?

“Jesus Christ, Poppy, if you’re gonna zone out and leave me hanging, can you at least focus on something that isn’t my acne? I know it’s pretty much Hell on a face but damn, I don’t-”

She shut him up. And just how she shut him up, did not take a genius to figure out.

In a spontaneous flurry of activity, Poppy awoke from her stupor and Branch’s complaints were promptly stifled. She lunged forwards and with a startled blink, he felt the sudden smush of her lips, her hands on his cheeks and a rush of heat filling his body.

He stumbled awkwardly as she pressed on, his back slamming into Justin Timberlake’s face. The glossy paper wobbled, as did Branch’s arms, pitifully uncertain of what position to take.

But before they could lock, before he could _think_ , Poppy broke away with a chipper “Mwah!” and a panting whoop of victory, fists launched into the air.

Their first was a speedy kiss, a forceful kiss and, as Poppy would fondly recall several times in future, a terribly clumsy kiss.

“Okie dokie!” She breathed, slapping her hands on her hips. “Got that outta my system, you can continue now!”

_Fantastic… what the fuck am I continuing?_

Branch was nothing but a slack jaw and fluttering eyelids. “Uh.”

“What’s the matter? Bad kiss?”

Well, no, not exactly. If his pounding heart was anything to go by, Poppy had definitely done _something_ right.

He shook his head, half to assure her, half to clear away the muddled haze of his mind. “N-not bad, just-…” His arm set against the wall to maintain his balance, the other hand trying to grasp at a semblance of rational thought by tugging at his hair. “Fast…”

Poppy released a buzzingly elated laugh. “Right, right. I forgot you like slow and steady and every time I speed things up, you freak out.”

“I _don’t_ freak out!” Branch wheezed, the situation still processing at a painfully slow rate. “A-anyway, back to what I was talking about…uh… b-back…back to-…”

“Floor’s all yours, bud.”

He wracked his brains. His train of thought was significantly void of anything but lip gloss and nails against his cheekbones. “Shit, Poppy, what the fuck was I talking about?!”

“Beats me,” She chuckled, throwing her arms out in a carefree shrug. “I wasn’t payin’ attention.”

“You weren’t paying a-…” Branch's resigned mumble died away. His face slowly contorted as the realization dawned and he looked to her with incredulity. _“Poppy!”_

_“What?!”_

He thumped his fist repeatedly against the wall, wildly gesturing between her and the poster. “I can’t believe you just _murdered_ Justin Timberlake!”

Poppy went wide eyed, slapping her fingers over her mouth with a panicked squeak. “I did not!”

“You did!” Branch felt an unintentionally budding grin.

“Didn’t!”

“Did!”

“He’s alive, dammit!” She insisted with an underwhelming stamp of a socked foot against carpet floors.

“He’s stone dead!” He retorted, sniggering despite himself.

Something especially odd seemed to be taking place inside of Branch. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was adrenaline or just amplified nervousness but something was fizzling within the depths of his stomach. Something confused, something giddy and something outright lost in a way to channel itself.

Even as he argued Timberlake’s indefinite fate, the back of his mind was set stubbornly elsewhere. The kiss was relieved a thousand times in a span of seconds, a loop far too Poppy-like in speed, for a Branch-like brain to handle. Maybe that’s what was exciting the something in the first place.

But struggling for an outlet, the something clung desperately to the dumb Timberlake schtick, conditioning Branch into believing it was absolutely fucking hilarious.

He threw himself around to face the poster, with an exaggerated salute. “Rest in peace, Mouseketeer!”

Poppy was probably getting more offended at this, than if Branch himself was being announced deceased. “He is alive and well, Branch! Alive and well and he’s also gorgeous so fuck you!”

“Oh, oh, ohhhhhh,” Branch was glowing now, practically bouncing where he stood. “If you love him so much, why’d you kill him?” He sing-songed.

“I did not kill him!”

“Shit, now, what are we going to do during the entire month of May?!”

An exasperated whine. “Braaaaaaanch, c’moooon,”

His occasional sniggers had evolved into a fit of full-blown shoulder shaking laughter. “He’s bringing sexy to the fucking grave!”

“Do not bastardize his songs like this, I will smack you!” Poppy shrieked, scandalized.

Branch folded forward with a clutched stomach, tears blurring his world. “S-suit…” He choked out a watery continuation. “Suit and tie… geddit?! ‘Cause…’cause his-”

“His funeral, yeah, I get it,” Poppy interrupted impatiently, currently nothing but a blob of pink seen through welling eyes. “And I’m the one with the bad jokes.” She muttered, annoyed.

Before he realized she had neared, he felt a hand softly clap his back. “Hey, Branch, buddy, are you… okaaaaay?”

“NO!” He exploded, still unable to contain his hysteria. “I’m not okay! Y-you fucking kissed me and I’m losing my mind here!”

Every embarrassing snorty giggle bounced against his eardrums. Drowned out by his own stupid noises, Branch didn’t even hear Poppy’s low whistle.

While she definitely said something, he couldn’t manage enough words to ask her to repeat it.

But even though spoken communication was off the table right now, the two of them always got their message across one way or the other. In this case, Poppy settled for a more physical method.

One hand clasped gently over his, with the intent of softening his resolve. It succeeded as a few seconds later, her other hand pressed against his shoulder and propped him upwards with relative ease.

He scraped his hair back as he rose, so he could see her better. Poppy was smiling, plainly amused, but lacking that off-the-walls liveliness she was known for. Through underlying belly-laughter that he couldn’t stop to save his life and a muscle-aching grin, Branch deduced that she had probably toned it down intentionally. Somebody needed to be the sensible one here.

She gave his hand a tug, light at first, as if providing him with an invitation. But a thoroughly confused Branch stood rooted to his spot, plastered with a brainless smile.

Poppy rolled her eyes and pulled, dragging his feet momentarily before he cottoned on. He allowed her to guide him across the bedroom, giggles subsided somewhat but still ongoing, gurgling in his throat.

Suddenly, with a firm shove of his shoulders, Branch was plopped into a sitting position. In that instant, his laugh dropped dead, reaction best expressed by the surprised squeak of the bed beneath him. “W-what are you doing?!”

Poppy stood above him, hands on her hips and quirked a brow, innocently baffled by his alarm. “What am I doing? What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m sitting you down so you can calm yourself,” The mood eased slightly as an endeared chuckle fell from her lips. “Like, buddy, not that it’s not cute n’ all but that laugh of yours was getting a _little_ outta hand.”

Oh.

“Right.” Branch mouthed, his already flushed face growing warmer.

He bent over, folding his elbows over his lap as he paid the price of laughter with a break of heavy panting.

At some point during the peace, Poppy dropped down and knelt comfortably beside him. He felt her knuckles stroke pensively at the skin between his neck and jaw but before he could even question, his jacket was suddenly yanked back.

Branch snapped to attention, prior defence regained in a flash as the air ghosted his now exposed forearms. “Okay, okay! _Now_ what are you doing?!”

Poppy gave him a funny look. “Trying to get your jacket off? So, you don’t overheat? ‘Caaaaaause…” Two fingers touched his cheek before she drew away with a feigned wince, blowing teasingly against her prints. “I think you’re gonna burn yourself out if you don’t cool down soon.”

Branch nodded slowly. “Right.” He repeated, involuntarily high pitched this time.

_Whatever you think she’s doing, odds are she’s not doing it. Cool your jets, you degenerate._

Branch relented. Aided by Poppy’s impatient hands, he shrugged the jacket off, sleeves bunching around his wrists. She pulled it out from under his palms, and delicately folded it, as if it weren’t the rattiest item of clothing in the room right now.

“So,” She chirped, setting the now rectangular shaped garment on the edge of the bed, with the care of a midwife. “How ya feelin’?”

“A little less hot anyway.” Branch mumbled.

He heard her stifle a snort but upon turning to her expectantly, Poppy jumped, jaw snapping shut. He blinked, perplexed by the light blush that spread across her face.

“Right.” She nodded sharply, breaking eye contact with a sudden whip of her head. She stared adamantly across the room, drumming her fingers on her lap.

Another silence, not nearly as awkward with all they’ve spilled so far, but the atmosphere was still charged with tension and vague sentiments still lingered on Branch’s tongue.

But what else could he possibly have to say to her? Honestly, he wasn’t sure if the electric sparks jolting his body into hyperactivity, were anxiously seeking closure from words remaining unspoken or if they were merely remnants of dizzy exhilaration from everything that _had_ been said.

Either way, Branch was extremely fidgety and the bounce of his own right knee was bothering him. He solved the problem by swinging both legs on to the bed, crossing one and pulling the other to his chest.

“So, uh, would it be alright to ask…?” Poppy bounced a space closer, tilting her head to get a look at his face. “What that whole thing was about anyway? As much of a weirdo as you can be sometimes, you can’t have found Justin’s death _that_ funny. But man, I dunno if I ever saw you laugh so hard in your life.”

Branch shook his head, openly clueless. “I-… I have no idea.”

How Poppy knew that he was contemplating the moment, was beyond him, but she didn’t interrupt as he mulled it over.

The simplest conclusion his brain could formulate, insisted on tediously repeating itself.

_You just don’t handle shock well, dipshit._

“I guess it’s just…if-if something happens that I really wasn’t expecting, I just…” Branch lightly slapped a palm against the side of his head, producing a malfunctioning sound affect with his tongue. “Stop working like I’m supposed to. Have a weird ass-”

A thought hit him, like the weight of a brick. “-meltdown…”

He trailed off, acutely aware of her eyes on him, as the memory re-emerged. Uninvited, Branch may add.

With a sudden plummet of his guts, He found himself transported back to that roller rink. He recalled the chill of metal against his sweating hand. He felt his shaking clutch of a phone and he heard the phone plead.

It pleaded in a mutation of her voice, the same voice that had imprinted on every one of his dreams, nightmares and every thought in-between. His brain had numbed and his throat had tightened, so he was left gaping and useless as she begged for him to just _say something_.

Branch hadn’t said anything. In his panic, all he did was hang up.

Now _that_ was a prime example of his flawed functionality.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered, voice buried under a whisper. “I’m really sorry.”

While transfixed with a stray thread in his jeans, Branch could clearly envision her features loosen in bemusement.

A soft “Heh,” before she spoke. “We’ve both said sorry a whole bunch tonight, Branch. Buuuut I gotta say I never really know what you’re apologizing for until you explain it,”

He replied in nothing above a murmur. “I hung up.”

A beat of recollection. “…Ohhhh,”

He nodded along to her drawn out realization.

“Branch, you know I’m not mad about that, right?”

“I know.”

Hell, that was where most of his guilt derived from. Poppy didn’t hold grudges herself so he had to hold them for her. Luckily, Branch had a lot of practice in being angry at himself.

“But-but it was still a really shitty thing for me to do and I know it must have sucked for you so I figured I should at least-”

Poppy had scooched over the thin sliver that divided them and pressed his mouth shut with her palm.

Once she was certain he had been silenced, she looked up, expression ever-patient. “Don’t worry about it too much, bud. You’ve… you’ve more than made up for it tonight, don’t’cha think? With all you’ve done for me?”

Branch inhaled as her hand fell away, suddenly realizing that he had forgotten to breathe in those few seconds. “I just… I _wanted_ to say sorry. To you. Be-because I felt like-like… it’d be…be not…ugh!” He groaned as his sentence came out irritatingly tangled. Branch instinctively shot a fist towards his temple, which Poppy expertly snatched away before impact.

Acknowledging her stern look, Branch uncurled his fingers and instead reconsidered his words. He opened his mouth and spoke carefully.

“I know you’re not mad at me. But I am. Mad. At-at me. And I felt like if I didn’t at least say sorry for fucking up like I did, then I wouldn’t be able to get it out of my system. Hanging up was…w-was…”

_Cold-hearted or cowardly. Take your pick. Ooooh, how about both?_

“It was bad. I shouldn’t have done it. It was bad. It was really, really fucking bad.”

Poppy seemed to have an internal debate over whether to nod or shake her head. Ultimately, she gave an airy shrug, although Branch couldn’t help but feel her exuberance was dulled by the weight of his tone.

“Okay, Branch. Well.” She popped up that familiar smile of hers. For a moment, he raked over her expression for evidence of strain. But surprisingly no. Sincerity shone in her eyes and optimism plucked at her lips. Poppy really was damn good at getting back up again.

“You’re forgiven.” She assured him, with a casual pat to his knee. “Think you can rest easy now?”

_That’s kind of an ‘Only time will tell’ type thing._

“Probably.”

Another pause.

Scratching his fingernails up his lower arms, he caught her shoulders droop from the corner of his eye.

“Um, w-would it be okay if I asked you something?”

Branch felt his organs spring to his throat. “I-…okay.”

Poppy wriggled on her knees, fingers forming a little knot in her lap. “I-I’m not mad, y’know. I’m really not mad at you. Not by a longshot but-…”

He felt the faintest breath of amusement puff through his nose. “Yeah, Poppy. I think we kind of nailed that part to the ground.”

“B-but…I just wanna know. I mean, you’ve-you’ve said already that-that you-…” Her eyes snapped to her squirming hands as she whispered “-love me,” She tinted a pretty pink like a playfully teased five year old.

Despite his quivering nerves, Branch had to smirk.

Poppy lifted her head, desperation pinching her features. “But then _why_ did you hang up?”

All humour was drained instantaneously. But before Branch could even choke out some form of a reply, she had already powered on. “Like I’ve been thinkin’ about it a-and you do feel the same way so-so I really just don’t get why you hung up if that’s the case. Were you mad at me? Did I say somethin’ stupid that got you pissed? Was my timing just really bad?”

Poppy’s capability to flap her gums just off the speed of sound, was both incredible and alarming. At least that was what Branch was currently admiring to procrastinate the structure of an adequate reply. He… _really_ didn’t know how to answer her.

“Okay, I get it. I know what I said was kinda all over the place and yeah, okay, I wasn’t really thinkin’ it through and just sayin’ whatever came to mind y’know. I _was_ speakin’ from the heart,” She drummed a fist against her chest. “But I guess I can understand if you wanted somethin’ a little more-”

“It wasn’t you, Poppy.” He finally ground out, and good God, did they effort to speak bleed through his hoarse voice. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Poppy most definitely noticed, judging by the encouraging but significantly subdued “Theeeennn….?”

But despite the tone like velvet that crept up the back of his neck, and the gaze of a freckled face padded in puppy fat, Branch was not soothed in the slightest.

That girl still wanted an answer.

And Branch couldn’t disappoint her.

_I hung up because I didn’t think you meant it._

_I hung up because I thought I tricked you into believing it._

_I hung up because I didn’t know what to say to you._

_I hung up because I apparently can’t handle anything without panicking._

_I hung up because I didn’t deserve what you were saying to me._

_I hung up because I’m a coward._

_I hung up because I’m a dick._

_I hung up because I’m a piece of shit._

“I hung up because…” He cringed at his wobbly words.

A million explanations buzzed like hornets in his brain. But Branch knew. He knew exactly what was going on.

“Because…” A deep breath, an adamant shake of the head and trembling finger which pointed to his temple. “Bad…parts…”

Braving eye contact, Branch was met with a look of confusion.

_Can you blame her? What the fuck are you even talking about half the time?_

It took a second, or two, or seven, until Poppy’s eyes cleared in realization before softening as she re-considered him. “You hung up ‘cause the bad parts were tellin’ you to, didn’t you?”

“I guess you could say that’s what happened, yeah.”

“Real annoying li’l buggers, ain’t they?”

“I’d try and call them something worse than ‘annoying li’l buggers’” Branch deadpanned. He shrugged. “But you’re not wrong.”

Poppy didn’t reply to that. Instead, she allowed for another stretch of silence. But as his chin propped against his folded knee, he couldn’t help but feel that it was an uncomfortable silence.

Was killing a mood a talent?

“I’m not always gonna know how your brain works, Branch.” She finally mumbled, after what felt like an hour. “Aaaaand I don’t think I understand the bad parts as well as I should.”

Gaze locked on the quilt beneath them, Branch chewed his tongue to prevent any bitter retorts about how Poppy should _not_ want to be acquainted with the bad parts.

“But, I think I got… a vague idea? I know it gets in the way of you being happy a lot,”

“Pretty much.”

“So, even if I don’t totally get it, I’m still gonna try to help as best I can. I mean, I think I’m pretty good at being happy. Maybe I can just keep trying to spread some of that happy to you.”

“That _is_ what you’ve been doing for years now.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah.”

With her voice dropping in disappointment, Branch turned to her with raised eyebrows.

Poppy gnawed uncertainly at her bottom lip. “Has it… has it done any good though?”

He didn’t think about it. One glance at gleaming eyes sunken in doubt and Branch’s hand automatically slipped over hers. He nodded, his own mouth twitching up at sound of her flustered chuckle.

“You know I meant it, right?” She asked.

“Meant what?”

“Everything I said over the phone. Like I know it was kinda crazy n’ all but I meant it, Branch,”

Poppy had removed her hand from under his, now using both to gesticulate as she spoke. “You _are_ smart, you _are_ sweet and funny and-and everything I said I still feel a hundred million and ten percent!”

“I don’t think that’s a real-”

“I know what I said!” She snapped, stunning Branch’s trap shut before resuming her babble of sap. “No matter how bad the bad parts get, they’re never ever _ever_ gonna outshine the good parts, I promise.”

Poppy’s expression was soft but blazing, a look that burned his throat and strummed at every individual heartstring.

“I said you’re amazing, didn’t I?” She scrabbled across the bed, until she was inches from his face, determined to make eye contact.

Startled by her sudden imposition, Branch was forced to awkwardly crabwalk a space back, gaze flickering nervously as she loomed so close.

“And I _know_ you think the bad parts make you bad but like no matter what you think, just know that I love you a whole lot.”

The unease dissolved as he was stricken dumbstruck. Branch stared at her, out of breath and sucked of speech.

“I love you more than parties, more than scrapbooking, more than stickers, more than music,” Poppy’s messy hair was flying wild with every insistent bob and shake of her head.

She threw her back out with a dramatic throw of her arms. “Hell, I love you more than a fresh batch of iced cupcakes, Branch!”

Eyes popped from his skull and air filled his loosely hung mouth. He felt like he had been hit by a freight train, a freight train that was far too fond of him, for his blood vessels to handle.

“Aaaand,” Her face alit with a beam of pride. “You know I love cupcakes a ton.”

In that instant, a rush in his system. A rush of thrill, a rush of fear, or an alarmingly powerful rush of endearment for the girl kneeling in front of him.

The girl who cheered him up at the ice-cream parlour.

The girl who insisted that he live with her.

The girl who chatted cheerily with him every single day.

The girl who talked him through a breakdown.

The girl who was nothing but encouraging.

The girl who poured rays of light into every dreary crack.

The girl who had never truly given up on him.

Poppy.

_Thank you._

While these were the words he thought, Branch couldn’t say them. Firstly, they were repetitive. All the phrase could possibly induce would be a polite smile and a nonchalant shrug on Poppy’s part. Branch didn’t want that. He wanted her to feel something as strong as the need to thank her was.

Secondly, his voice-box had closed up and the fear of croaking kept the words contained. But goddammit, he was dead-set on thanking her and if he didn’t have a voice, so be it.

A winded laugh escaped him, leaving Poppy confused but amused. Balanced on his hands, he held himself up and he leaned in. Bedsprings groaned.

With a brush of noses and feather touch of lips, Branch had her thanked.

Slow in its motion but quick in its time as within seconds, the chaste kiss with broken. He pulled away, a sound like a burst bubble popping between them.

This did not deter Poppy. As Branch parted, she neared, eyes still sealed and only stirred when awoken by Branch’s snort.

Fleeting but spotted, was a look that could have formed an indigent pout, before she caught herself and yanked up a smile.

“Hey,” Branch smirked, sitting up and re-assuming the cross-legged position. “Don’t think I didn’t see. What’s the face for?”

“Face?” Poppy blinked a little too rapidly, feigning cluelessness. “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about, I didn’t make a face.”

“I know a fucking face when I see one, Poppy. I make plenty of them. So, what’s the problem?” He teased, quirking a brow. “Kiss not good enough?”

“Take the ‘good’ out and you got it!”

Branch’s next smartass comment was stopped short by her reply. He stared at her blankly, brain seizing up like a frozen computer. “Uh. I’m sorry, what?”

Poppy rolled her eyes. “Good.” She explained with her hands. “Take the ‘good’ outta what you said and you’d have your answer.”

His brows linked in thought, mouthing words under his breath before looking up quizzically. “Not… enough…?”

Poppy tutted playfully. “Not enough.”

She crawled in another bit and Branch had to wonder why her face hovered as close as it did. He then came the realization that she was only mirroring him. Specifically, his scooch into her space, magnetic in nature but utterly unintentional.

“What more do you want?” He asked lowly.

“What more do _you_ want?” She countered.

His eyes skimmed from her eager gaze to cherub lips. And up and down, and up and down.

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“You’re makin’ it pretty obvious though,” Poppy ribbed, her light laughter jingling. “But, hey,”

“What?”

“We’ve kissed twice tonight, haven’t we?”

Every hint of a whisper, every puff between teeth, every bat of tongue against the roof of her mouth. They all tap-tap-tapped tantalizingly against Branch’s sensitive eardrums.

“Correct,” He said, breathless and compliant as her forehead pressed to his.

“You believe in third time’s the charm?” Poppy crooned, her spirited grin all he could see, and curtains of fuchsia hiding the rest of the world.

“Not really,”

“Well, wanna pretend you do?” He caught her eyes drag down his portrait. “Just for tonight?”

Branch’s whispered “Yeah,” was like the shot of a starter’s pistol.

Two bodies leapt into a desperate embrace, lips reunited and hearts fired up.

It couldn’t be proven who moved first. Branch could always pin it on Poppy and no one would be surprised. But he knew in his heart, that the ghost of an excitable little boy had practically shoved him into action.

The first kiss had been blundering and un-coordinated. Swift and wild, but served to shatter the remaining icy barriers.

The second was merely a half-piece, longing for closure. A tempting taster that bewitched their need for another.

But the third kiss, now that was their breakthrough.

This kiss was a million childhood photographs and a fondly remembered ring-pop. This kiss was loving prints on magazine pages and silly doodles on post-it notes.

It was giddy stick-sword fights and the gift of a poppy flower.

It was throwing popcorn to duckies and piggy-back rides, plush dolphins and roller-skates.

It was every ‘Thank you,’ ‘You’re welcome,’ and ‘I love you’ that they could hope to express in their lifetime.

His fingers, sliding across her face into the tangles of her hair, were all the stammers, blushes and helpings of affectionate snark that had gathered over the years.

Her nails dug insistently in the back of his goosebumped neck, were countless secret glances and gushing giggles that orbited him.

It was a kiss that demanded, a kiss that _screamed_. Vibrating in their heads were the words ‘Closer, closer, closer’ like it was their entire life’s purpose and Branch and Poppy were determined to satisfy it.

But it was impossible. Arms gliding down shoulders and backs, to cradle torsos, and holding each other chest-to-to-chest, they could not physically get any closer. But that shrieking command did not put a damper on their fun, it only fuelled their enthusiasm.

And closer and closer and closer, the atmosphere chanted and Poppy, ever eager, got carried away. Her weight abruptly shifted into him and Branch lost his balance, tumbling back and falling with a _plop_ against her pillows.

While it briefly tore their kiss apart, it barely fazed either of them. Poppy swooped down, crouching on her hands and knees, peppering his mouth with little pecks before initiating another interlock.

Itching by her hair tips dangling against his forehead, Branch’s hands travelled up her back, impatient to close the gap between them.

It succeeded as her arched spine melted at his touch and she fell atop of him. A soft “Oomph,” from Branch as the wind was knocked out of him, but the noise was overlooked, in favour of other things.

Poppy cupped his face as the kiss deepened, and had taken to a surprisingly pleasant recurrence with her thumbs. Tender but inflaming, they stroked along his cheekbones, again and again, and Branch found himself understanding the pleasure of a chin scratched kitten. His heart was audible and his entire body puddled.

He was dependent on those strokes and he didn’t know what he would do if they stopped.

They stopped.

Well, one did.

Poppy’s right hand vanished, exposing his too-hot cheek to the air too-chilly. The world went lopsided and he leaned into the hand that remained, clutching her left wrist like a lifeline.

Suddenly, there were spidering fingertips like tickly static roaming his flesh. A hiss sucked through his teeth and liquid limbs went rigid.

Suffice to say, Branch solved the mystery of Poppy’s missing hand.

His gasp caught her attention and her exploration halted, to check on his wellbeing. She pulled their lips apart and tucked a tuft of hair behind her ear in puzzled concern, before common sense struck her like a bullet.

Poppy glanced down lightning-quick to her spread hand’s outline under Branch’s cotton shirt. She squeaked, immediately springing upwards with a retract of her snooping fingers.

A solid moment was dedicated to both of their burdened lungs. Ragged mouthfuls of air came in bulk, Branch momentarily mesmerized by her wracking shoulders until his gaze carried down to the rest of her.

It would appear Poppy was currently straddled over his hips.

How about that.

_This is fine._

But Branch was distracted from an internal scream as he felt her wriggle anxiously. Looking up, he noted Poppy had gone as red as her namesake.

She released an unsteady exhale. “I-I-… Listen, I’m real sorry ‘bout that. I wasn’t exactly thinkin’ when I did it and I, uh, I probably should’ve made sure of boundaries n’ all that stuff before I-”

“What?” Branch bluntly interrupted, shaking the daze from his head as he propped himself up by the elbows. “Okay, uh,” He panted. “I don’t really know what the Hell you’re apologizing for so…?”

Poppy considered him as if he were a dunce (a possibility.) “I was touching stuff I didn’t ask to touch, Branch. You nearly jumped outta your fucking skin, remember?”

“Well, yeah, I know, but why are you sorry?”

_And more importantly, why did you stop?_

“You’re kidding, right?!” Her voice raised an octave in incredulity. “Branch, you made a noise like a dying cat. Was that not enough of a sign that you didn’t like the direction all of this, was goin’ in?”

_From where you’re sitting, you should be able to physically feel that I’m not totally opposed to the idea._

Yeah. Best not to say that.

“Um.”

Honestly, Branch was a little torn on how to answer. His reaction was reflexive, sure, but it was by no means, repulsed. But while he was currently more pumped than he had been in years, anything beyond this point was uncharted waters. Unfamiliar. And Branch was a cautious man.

However, he was also a man of other emotions. And impulses. Infuriatingly curious impulses. Several of which, were butting heads with his judgement right now.

He received a push of knuckles against his shoulder and Branch blinked back to reality to find Poppy gazing at him expectantly.

_Quick, pick your poison! Rationality or hormones._

“I-I mean, it was kind of unexpected but I’m, uh,” He was mumbling now. Fantastic. As if a face sizzling like a frying pan, wasn’t embarrassing enough. “I’m not…um…not…”

“Nod for good touch, shake for bad touch.” Said Poppy patiently.

With a grateful sigh, he nodded, his head slumping into the pillows immediately afterwards.

She couldn’t contain her giddy grin, not resisting the urge to bounce where she sat, adorably oblivious to Branch’s wince of pain.

Her eyes widened as a thought crossed her mind, mouthing a soft “Oh,” before straightening her posture and looking him over with business in her eyes. “But, y’know, we should probably set some stuff straight first.”

Poppy swiftly gestured down Branch’s body. “Name all your Area 51s.”

The power of Branch’s unabashed gawk alone, could probably stamp the word ‘Lunatic’ to Poppy’s forehead. “My fucking _what?!_ ”

Her shoulders dropped, with a groan of impatience. “Y’know, your sacred grounds, your no-no zones, your off-limits, your-”

“Poppy, what the actual Hell are you talking about?!” Branch’s voice cracked, overwhelmed by how utterly lost he had become in these few short seconds.

“ _Where_ -” Hands clapped forcefully against his cheeks as she looked him dead in the eye. “-am I not allowed to touch?”

Oh.

“Ohhhh.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh,” Poppy mimicked, fighting to keep down her smirk. “C’mon, Branch. Listen, I know I get carried away a lot but you’re my bud and I don’t want you uncomfortable. So, go ahead. List ‘em all out.”

_Holy fucking shit, where to start. Okay, your stomach, your sides, your ribs, obviously your-_

“None.” He uttered, hushed but crystal clear.

An ear-splitting banshee shriek rattled around in his head but Branch was unbothered, preoccupied with electric excitement buzzing down his spine.

Poppy's gaze loomed from above, blinking in astonishment. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said none.” He repeated, struggling to keep his voice and face even but his top lip, blatantly twitching, was the biggest betrayal of his features. “Everything’s free to touch.”

_WAIT, NO, THIS IS BAD! THIS IS BAD! THIS IS REALLY, REALLY BAD! YOU BETTER BACK OUT OF THIS CATASTROPHE RIGHT THIS INSTANT BEFORE YOU-_

No.

Shut the fuck up.

Branch had already made a decision and he was going to do whatever the Hell he wanted right now. He was going to let Poppy do whatever _she_ wanted.

It might be reckless but goddammit, it wasn’t going to kill him.

Poppy wasn’t going to kill him.

She was kind of batshit nuts sometimes but Branch trusted her.

And there was no fucking way he was letting any paranoid internal monologue convince him that he didn’t. It wouldn’t be getting in the way this time.

Her head tilted delicately. “You serious?”

“As the plague.”

“Soooooo…” Her hands, fingers outstretched, settled atop his stomach. “There’s nowhere I can touch that’d scare you.”

“Scare me?” Branch barked out a laugh. “Poppy, you look like a pixie with a head of flamingo feathers. You’re the least scary person I know.”

She seemed to take his tease as a challenge and with a rising brow, slid her palm into its prior position, under dark green fabric. She checked his expression for any evidence of fear.

While Branch still puffed silently at the contact, he remained stone-faced.

Poppy then tested further. She pinched the waistline of his jeans and tugged experimentally.

The body language of attitude, could be difficult to express when pinned to a bed. Especially with the person you’re up against, holding you down like a sandbag. Branch settled for knotting his arms as tightly as possible.

She had not removed her grasp and ran her pinkie finger behind the rough material, exposing streaks of raw red marks which the jeans had carved into his midriff.

She popped a button.

Branch flinched.

“You sure?” Poppy asked, half victorious, half concerned.

He nodded. “I’m not scared, I’m really not. You can, uh..." A tight swallow. "You can do whatever you want. I’m being a hundred percent serious right now.”

Okay, that was technically a lie. Branch _was_ scared. However, he didn’t feel he was scared in the way Poppy thought he was. Not an unpleasant, blood-curdling kind of fear, not if his mind and body vibrating in anticipation, were anything to go by.

If Branch considered truly himself scared right now, then he would do anything under the sun, to be completely and utterly traumatized.

“Well,” Poppy began quietly. “If that’s the case then…” She shrugged. “Same goes for me.”

“What?”

Her hand rose and dropped from the top of her head, to her legs, still draped over his midsection. “No Area 51s here, buddy boy.”

A beat of realization.

“So, y-” Branch’s voice got caught momentarily. He cleared his throat. “So, you’re telling me-”

“That’s right!” She chirped, pumping her fists in the air. “My petting-zoo’s open for business!”

His brain provided an appropriate record scratch. Branch groaned, slapping his eyes shut. “Oh my God!”

“What?!”

“That has to be the worst metaphor yet…”

Poppy scoffed. “Excuse you. I happen to be very proud of it. None of the other metaphors included cute little bunnies and puppies and kittens-”

_Kittens._

Branch burned under his palms.

“What’s the problem?”

He shook his head adamantly, eyes screwed shut.

She chuckled, revealing his face with a tug of his wrists. “You got an issue with the way I talk, Branch?”

His mouth opened, ready to spit out something snarky. But the words just teetering over his tongue, abruptly vanished after a quick glance at their fondling hands. His eyes travelled up to her expression, which even in its jokes, brimmed with warmth.

“No.” Branch said, soft as the surrounding pillows.

Okay, what did he expect? If she didn’t phrase things funny, could he be even sure this was Poppy at all?

“So, metaphors aside, what you were saying just now…”

Poppy raised her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“I can touch anywhere? Anywhere at all?”

“Um. Y-yeah. T-that’s uh…. that’s kinda what I said, isn’t it?”

Aided by his right arm, Branch hoisted himself into a sitting position and took a moment to just look at her. He would happily admire the plumage of her dark lashes and count every cheek dotted freckle. But then again, she may grow a little confused with being endlessly observed.

Indeed, Poppy’s lips parted in a silent question but she said nothing. They breathed in unison.

His fingertips brushed against her knee but it wasn’t until they dragged to her waist, did she bristle.

Branch looked up, but she quickly reassured him with a sharp nod. He still had her say-so.

They roamed over the curve of her hip, to the sides which rolled in her slouch. Up the swell of her chest and to her collarbone, only to settle unquestionably on her cheek.

“Anywhere, huh?”

“You’re kidding me.” She deadpanned, through a hint of amusement, as she caught his hand to cradle it. “My face, Branch? My face?”

“Hey, hey, hear me out. It’s not as sickening as you think it is.”

“I’m listening.” She practically sang, with a to-and-fro of her head.

He leaned in closer and as he smiled, she naturally did so in response. At that, Branch’s thumb ran gently across her lips.

“I have known you all of my life, Poppy. From a crazy toddler to a crazy woman. And-…” He softened. “In all the years I’ve known you, every single day without fail, you’ve smiled. So, uh, for the last couple of years, I thought a few times that… that I wanted to touch it. The smile.”

They both looked down to the prints-to-lips press before Branch pulled away, laughing at her crossed-eyes. “So, y’know, if I was going to touch anything, that’d be where I start.”

“Awwwwww!” Poppy’s face was aglow in affection. “That was so sweet I’m gonna throw uuuuuuup!” She cooed.

“C’mon, It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was so cute and even more sickening than I thought it would be!”

“No, it wasn’t. I actually said something super cool and you just misheard it.”

“Braaaaaanch,” She whined.

“Hey. I have an idea. Let’s kiss again.”

_“Branch!”_

“Sorry. Can’t hear you.” He mumbled, their lips bumping together. “Currently kissing. Leave a message.”

Save for a huff, Poppy did not complain and sunk into the motion quite easily. Although she still managed a whispered. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Mmhmm.”

It wasn’t for a few minutes, that he felt her shake and the shape of her mouth shifted upwards. But Branch only smirked, content as Poppy’s bubbling giggles poured into their kiss.

Laughter was frequent in the hours that followed. On both their parts. Flustered, giddy or disbelieving laughs as the entire situation occasionally hit them like papers flying in the wind. Processing it all was hard every now and then but it was fine.

No matter how unfounded one’s laugh was, the other would always join in without hesitation.

* * *

Poppy didn’t grow weary until the morning had ripened but once she did, Branch couldn’t bring himself to say she fell asleep. God no, that would imply a gradual descent into sleepiness until she finally nodded off.

That girl plummeted into unconsciousness, like a goddamn boulder off a cliff. She went from sniggers to snores in seconds. It was incredible.

Sunlight leaked through the nearby blinds, and streamed over her sleeping body as if she were a golden-striped tiger.

Branch watched her, sitting up and wide awake from his side of the bed. He noted every detail from the squash of her cheek against the pillow to the string of saliva that hung off her lip. A freckled arm was tucked over her head and pink hair dripped down bare shoulders.

Mayor Peppy made his presence known about an hour ago, which had not exactly been good for Branch’s blood pressure. But it was like ripping off a band-aid, at least soothing one of his anxieties.

The few light knocks before he let himself in, had left Branch like a deer in the headlights and once the old man stepped inside, the silence was deafening.

Standing in the doorway, Peppy looked from Branch’s crumpled jeans tossed to the floor, to his T-shirt hanging off the bedpost until finally, the aging gaze reached the guilty young man himself who was sitting bolt upright and wild in the eyes. Also, noticeably _not_ in the guest room he had been assigned.

And with that, Peppy nodded slow and accepting before whispering “Come down for breakfast whenever you’re ready.” He shut the door behind him, the clicking sound adding audio to the severing of Branch’s ability to take things in his stride. This family in particular, was going to give him a heart attack.

He didn’t want to go downstairs for a while. At least, not without Poppy. Frankly, he didn’t want to look her father in the eye without her. So, he would wait until her eyelids fluttered open.

In the meantime, let her sleep like the dead.

She had one Hell of a day.

They both had.

This was real, Branch knew that. He didn’t pinch, he didn’t need to. And while he was tempted to scrape up his arms, he knew Poppy might be a little unhappy with that and it would be unfair to sneak it while she was sleeping.

He recalled a hazy memory of a distant dream a few days ago. Or… a nightmare, really. While the details were far and in-between, the image of his own grey contaminating Poppy’s skin still crossed his mind when the distractions were muted. Sometimes, it was accompanied by a scream.

Branch chuckled quietly.

Spreading grey was a ridiculous concept. Surreal. Impossible. But it still terrified him because it meant so much more underneath it all.

However, right here, right now, everything it stood for, was ludicrous.

Branch’s forefinger ran musingly, across her chin and up her cheekbone and even when so far away to the world around her, a pleasant smile ghosted across her features.

Love pooled in his stomach.

That.

That was what Branch’s touch brought to Poppy.

Smiles.

He had learned that tonight when he had skimmed so much of her and left barely a trace of evidence. Well, patches of pale pink still stained the line of her neck but her reaction to those had been one of positivity. There was not a hint of grey in sight. In any sense of the word.

Raking a hand through his hair to cool off a hot forehead, he felt himself beam, an expression far wider and brighter than he could ever fathom on himself. It was a look the Snack Pack would never see anyway. No way in Hell.

Branch plopped down beside her, the possibility of sleeping miniscule but that was fine. He was comfortable just lying here.

Poppy must have heard the bedsprings because she rolled over, as if reeled in by a string. Draping her arm over him, she nestled happily into his side, her body-heat seeping into his skin.

He hugged her close, eyes settled on the ceiling before they slid shut, not to sleep but to just relax.

Branch had not relaxed much in the last week.

Or month.

Or decade.

But Hell, once you felt you belonged somewhere, it was surprisingly easy to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [AWWWWW!!!](http://frootpunch.tumblr.com/post/164650510094)
> 
> [AWWWWW!!!](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/164453250948)
> 
> [AWWWW!!!](http://tisbubb.tumblr.com/post/164418939565)
> 
> [the video of Artsy eating the chapter you just read](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nyqVWYY-6OI)


	22. Chapter 22

If expected to clarify, Branch wouldn’t call it a nap exactly, but more of a delicate doze.

Under his bottom lids spread sagging skin, having purpled through sleepless nights. This had become a budding concern for Poppy so he had taken to resting his eyes whenever he had the chance.

And maybe (just maybe) the likelihood of her hands cradling his head and settling it against her lap if he so much as yawned, was a big influence in how tired Branch happened to be at the time.

He bobbed in and out of consciousness, catching snippets of upbeat conversation like white noise all around him. Branch had grown accustomed to the Snack Pack and their need for perpetual chatter so tuning it out wasn’t especially difficult these days.

However, he couldn’t say he trusted any of them enough to fall asleep in their presence. When united, their mischief levels shot through the roof.

No fucking thank you.

Poppy’s upper body cast pleasantly cool shadows over his face, her fingers treading his hair and inflicting hitched breaths and bursts of stomach tingles with every scratch of nails through his scalp.

Cheery sunshine and heated air had long since melted Branch’s vigilance and he felt content to just lay here throughout the entire picnic. Of course, that wasn’t likely as they would surely be pestering his lazy ass to participate in the conversation eventually. But hey, it was a nice thought.

“So, did Branch show up just to nap or what?”

There it is.

“And eat.” He responded, cracking an eye open and turning his head towards Smidge. The tiny girl was sitting cross-legged, guarding a plate of neatly cut triangular sandwiches, one of which she was currently munching on.

Branch smirked. “But I get the feeling if I try and grab a sandwich, you’ll my bite my hand off so…just gonna nap, I guess.”

Pixie features scrunched in a pout-like scowl that she most definitely didn’t mean and, not breaking eye contact from Branch, she picked up a single ham and turkey sandwich. She thrust it at the person beside her, which happened to be Guy Diamond.

“Give him the sandwich.” Smidge grunted.

Guy nodded before turning to his right and passing it to DJ Suki. “Give him the sandwich.”

She grinned, eager to contribute before twisting around to hand it to Poppy. “Give him the sandwich.”

A split second of calm.

“Hey, baby, here’s a sandwich!”

Collision.

The fated sandwich reached its owner, through his girlfriend’s signature method of gleefully shoving it into his sandwich-hole.

The entire group broke out into giggles.

Honestly, Branch didn’t know what he was expecting.

“Tha’g ‘ou,” He said as the laughter died down, the muffle through bloated cheeks not enunciating his sarcasm as well as he would like.

“No prob!” Poppy chirped with an affectionate bop to his forehead.

Mouth too full to even sigh, Branch slid his eyes shut again and she promptly resumed stroking his hair.

And as time slipped away, he listened to the Snack Pack’s background noise.

Biggie was flaunting pictures of his cat and as Cooper innocently observed, the weird goblin creature was ugly as roadkill. This led to a rather intense rebuttal from Biggie, as Satin attempted to keep the peace.

Guy and Suki both lay sprawled over the picnic blanket, debating back and forth on what music would be best suited for a nightclub. Musical soundtracks had the energy to get people pumped but Pop had a far better beat after all.

Chenille and Smidge had huddled in closer to chat with Poppy and all three of them currently shadowed over him, juggling around dates for a shopping trip. Apparently, Chenille was one Hell of a busy bee.

And every so often, Branch felt himself snort.

Because the Snack Pack just never stopped. Always quipping and sharper in humor than he ever gave them credit for. Shit, the idea that he was actually getting attached to them was flickering small but persistent, at the very back of his head.

They were like a radio station he once played daily purely as a means to fill the lonely silence. But as the weeks pass as weeks do, those goddamn announcers and their silly yammering get under your skin. In a way that really _should_ be bad but… Branch welcomed it.

His friends were annoying and he had a million things to make fun of them for. But he liked them.

And Branch had recently discovered that they liked him too.

Man, the last few weeks had been a mind-fuck.

“Ow!” And within seconds, he was yanked from his musing by a sudden tug of his roots.

“Oh, sorry, sorry,” She fussed, smoothing down his hairline.

“Why are you pulling my hair?” Branch questioned, eyes still shut.

“Just uh…just got my nail caught. Don’t worry about it, bud.”

“Poppy…”

That hesitant pause told all. Branch could clearly envision her tightened expression, portraying “Dammit!” far better than words could.

“Are you braiding my hair again?”

Poppy said nothing.

Branch groaned.

“Poppy,”

“Hey, c’mon, it’s just one little braid and you’ve never looked cuter.”

“She’s right,” Chenille chimed in. “Plus, the buttercups are a really nice-”

“Excuse me, fucking buttercups?!”

He was sure as Hell awake now, and scrabbling into a sitting position. Back snapped out and thoroughly irritated, Branch opened his mouth, a launch of complaints at the ready.

And as if on cue, a single thin braid, woven with minute yellow flowers, drooped over his eye. A moment of silence was then dedicated to Branch’s look of aged exasperation.

Poppy chuckled sheepishly, her shoulders crumpling inwards. “See?” She crawled into his space and settled on her knees, tucking a strand of her own bubblegum locks behind her ear. “It’s pretty, isn’t it? You gotta admit that,”

Reaching up, she gently flicked the braid and the two watched it swing over his forehead like a pendulum, Poppy with poorly concealed amusement and Branch utterly deadpan.

“Hey,” She murmured. “Y’know what’d make it look prettier?”

“Setting it on fire?”

Poppy shook her head, pointing her two forefingers to her visible dimples. “A smile!”

Solely to spite her, Branch dragged the line of his mouth into a frown. “No.”

“Smile?”

“No.”

“Smiiiiiile?”

“No.”

Poppy scooching closer was the request and Branch remaining still was the agreement. The mutely arranged stare-off, then commenced with blazing gazes. His face set in stone and glaring eyes up against twinkling irises and a beam like concentrated euphoria.

_Two, Three, Four,_

Branch’s lips twitched.

_Five, Six, Seven,_

Poppy noticed and was soon shaking shoulders, spitting out the smallest of snickers.

_Eight, Nine,_

She hadn’t stopped laughing yet.

_Ten, Eleven,_

Branch cracked.

Ripping their held looks apart, he swiftly turned elsewhere and slapped a hand over his mouth, Poppy shrieking in victory as the corners of his grin poked out from underneath.

“I got a smile! got a smile” got a smiiiiiiile!” She chanted, grabbing his forearm and giddily dragging his frame from side to side, as Branch tried and failed to scrub the smile clean off with his palm.

“Shut up, shut up, shut uuuuup,” He mimicked.

Poppy poked out her tongue at him.

He mirrored her action, with stiffened brows and narrowed eyes.

And by God, were the Snack Pack easy to entertain.

Branch didn’t know why it was funny exactly but every time he and Poppy started jabbing at each other’s nerves, these morons were laughing.

Honestly, did he have some sort of comedic gift just by existing? Sweet Jesus, why wasn’t he taking advantage of this potential? He should charge by the chuckle.

“You’re both adorable,” breathed Chenille through her giggles.

Satin released an uncertain “Ehhhhhh,” as she shrugged. “Yeah, they’re cute n’ all. But now we gotta deal with _two_ sickening couples and I, for one, object.”

“Seconded!” Smidge’s hand shot up at once.

“Hey!” Suki sat up with a look of petulance. “Whaddya mean sickening? You’re not honestly comparing me and Chen to _that_ are you?” She gestured to Branch and Poppy with feigned disgust.

“Did you just call us a ‘That’?” Branch asked dryly.

“Ooooh, how ‘bout ‘This’ and ‘That’? We can get them on T-shirts!”

“No, Poppy.”

“Now, now,” Biggie interjected. “Branch and Poppy and Suki and Chenille are both loving, healthy couples and they are absolutely delightful to-”

“Biiiiiiggs,” Satin whined. “I’m just sayin’. Tell me they don’t get the tiniest bit annoying sometimes,”

Guy Diamond scoffed, still laying across the picnic blanket, hands behind his head. “What, you don’t think _we’re_ annoying?”

Chenille opened her mouth, only to have it promptly stifled by Satin’s hand. She turned to Guy with a shake of her hand. “Nah, we’re low-key.”

An amused sound escaped Suki’s throat but within seconds, Satin had dived forward to shut her up too. She was now sprawled with her arms outstretched, smirking competitively in her effort to keep the silence.

Poppy leaned towards to teasingly brush her fingers up Satin’s side, to which the other girl squeaked and shoved her away with her foot. “Don’t you dare, sweetheart.”

Guy didn’t seem to be paying attention to the shenanigans but continued gazing thoughtfully to the sky. “Low-key, huh?” He murmured, before pulling himself upwards. “Damn, I really gotta work on being more annoying.”

An immediate “You don’t.” resounded unanimously from Satin, Smidge and Branch.

“Nono, please, go on,” Poppy chirped. “How annoying you plan on getting?”

“Downright infuriating.” Said Guy eagerly. “I’m talking the most blatant PDA your eyes could possibly behold! Maybe even… Gristle and Bridget level.”

A gasp rippled through the group.

“Yes!” Poppy squealed.

“No!” Satin objected. “No way in Hell.”

“He’s not being serious.” Branch nudged her arm. “He’s just telling scary stories. Gristle and Bridget level is too intense. Even for Guy”

“Braaaaanch, I almost had her.”

“Tough shit, Lelli Kelly.”

“Coop…? Hey, Coop!”

As the back and forth bickering went on amongst the others, Branch’s attention was grabbed by Smidge. She was standing and prodding persistently at Cooper’s shoulder, impatient with his trance-like state. He hadn’t noticed until now but the lanky oddball had been strangely silent.

Even as he sat upright on his knees, Cooper still had a few inches on her. His shoulders were far more rigid than the usual slouch, his eyes not nearly as foggy as he stared dead ahead and Branch even caught sight of fidgeting thumbs in his linked hands.

But when Smidge in her curiosity, peered in the direction of Cooper’s glassy gaze, she noticeably paled and Branch felt the only option was to look for himself.

And okay, yeah, that was not good.

Right as he spotted the sight, he nervously turned back to Poppy.

She hadn’t noticed a thing, chatting animatedly to the twins with her hand still settled in his.

Branch inhaled sharply, clutching to his composure.

Alright. Poppy was happy. Poppy was having a nice day, spending time with her friends. And goddammit, it was going to stay that way. Only three people were aware and if Branch could just keep the rest of them from seeing then-…shit.

Biggie had noticed.

Followed by Suki.

Then the twins.

Branch could only watch in silence as the lively atmosphere was leeched away by everyone’s contagious unease.

And once he felt her fingers stiffen in his hand, his heart sank. He didn’t need to look up to know that Poppy’s bubbly mood had been unjustly burst.

“Why is he here?” She mumbled, more to herself than anyone.

Eight pairs of eyes glared daggers across the wide expanse of park at the lone young man with vivid turquoise hair, spread out on his mat in the Warrior Pose. He was oblivious to his spectators.

“If I remember right,” Branch glanced down to check the time on his phone. “It’s yoga hour.”

“But why is he _here_?” She repeated through gritted teeth.

Chenille shrugged. “It _is_ a public park.”

“Does he usually spend yoga hour here though?” Suki piped up.

Blinking at the silence she received instead of an answer, she lightly punched Guy’s arm. “Hey!”

His head snapped up from his phone, looking honestly startled. “What?!”

“Does Creek often come here?”

His shrug was brisk, shoulders tight and with that, his snapping green eyes instantly retreated back to his phone screen, looking to busy himself with texting.

The odd thing was that Guy was most certainly _not_ texting, as Branch noticed. He appeared to be, with his prodding thumbs and expression of concentration but the faking was obvious if given enough attention.

Biggie cleared his throat, having unwound his Creek-directed glower, unlike the rest of them. “Alright, so, maybe we shouldn’t be making such a fuss over this. We all came out for a good day, didn’t we? It doesn’t matter if Creek just happened to-”

“I’m gonna fight him.”

“Nah, you’re not.” Cooper yanked Smidge down by the collar, midway through perfecting an aggressive stance.

“Yeah, bad idea.” Satin nodded. “Let’s just… pretend he’s not there.”

Branch snorted. “I’ve got a lot of practice in that.”

The sandwiches made their rounds, the entire Snack Pack stuffing their faces a little more than usual. Apparently, food was the main source of distraction as they were currently too tense to fall back into easy conversation.

But Poppy refused to engage in any of it. She was still sat up, spine snapped straight, unable to do much of anything besides be domineered by an unsolicited presence that hadn’t even noticed hers yet.

“Hey,” Branch whispered, barely tickling her fingertips to get her attention before his hand slid over hers. “You can relax. It’s okay. We’re all here, I’m here. Everything’s okay.”

She shook her head to the sandwich he offered her. “Easier said than done.”

He could do nothing but nod at that, feeling his shoulders droop, as he fiddled with her multi-coloured Silly Bandz.

“So, what do you want for dinner tonight?” He asked. Because goddammit he had to ask something. Poppy needed a distraction right now.

“I don’t care.” She answered curtly, eyes still on Creek. “Anything.”

“Anything, huh?” Branch managed a faded smirk. “How about boiled cabbage and rhubarb? Good for you, y’know.”

“Yeah, fine.”

_… Well, shit. We’ve lost her, Doctor._

“Poppy,” Cupping her paled cheek, he had just steered her face towards him and noted features fixed in agitation, when the tiniest mumble from Cooper had the entire group on edge.

“He’s lookin’ at us.”

Every head (sans Guy) whipped around, whether intentionally or not and almost automatically, their prior prickly expressions masked their faces. Branch could only assume it was some instinctive form of self-defense. Hell, this whole stare-down they were having just radiated ‘Our territory’ vibes.

Branch’s own face hardened in that moment, despite his better judgement. He took it as a sign that the Snack Pack’s psychological hold on him, was a lot stronger than he originally thought.

Even from a distance, Creek’s eyes blatantly went wide, unnerved at having so many glares shot his way at once.

The seconds tick-tick-ticked away.

Creek shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking as though he _wanted_ to turn away but couldn’t.

Tick, tick, tick,

The Snack Pack inhaled in unison, the only other noise being Guy Diamond’s texting thumbs. Yeah, he was apparently still pretending to not pay attention. Yet somehow Branch felt he was the most attentive ( and uncomfortable) person of all.

Tick, tick,

Poppy was cutting off the blood circulation in his hand but he didn’t dare look down. And with one more tick, Creek’s ever haughty sense of pride presumably won out in whatever internal struggle he was fighting against.

He bent over to roll up his mat and tucking it under his arm, rose with the gift of grace he had no business possessing. Maybe Creek was aware. Maybe it was all for presentation. A good portion of his life had been proven to being just that.

He strode across the park, slicing distance like a snake in the grass and as he drew closer and closer, Branch wondered if he’d ever regain the feeling in his thoroughly crushed fingers.

“Umm, Poppy…”

She turned to him with wild eyes.

Branch glanced down pointedly at the lock that was her tightened grip.

An alarmed squeak sounded from her throat and she immediately pulled away, still struck speechless but managing to apologize with a panicked look.

He nodded reassuringly, massaging his hand.

This sort of reaction was understandable, it really was. Poppy had neither seen nor spoken of Creek in weeks. No one had. Given all that Poppy in particular had been through when it came to him, Branch wasn’t remotely surprised. Concerned but not surprised.

“Goodness, Poppy, what’s the matter?” Came that faux charming lilt that danced tauntingly on every last one of Branch’s nerves. And judging by the way Suki bristled by his side, he was no longer alone in that opinion.

Creek was stood above the stooped group, hands tucked neatly behind his back, his detached façade evident in his loose lipped smile. “You’re awful pale. Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“She saw you and her day got ten times worse.” Smidge shot back, wearing a glare that could scorch skin. “Leave.”

“Leave?” He quirked a brow, appearing innocently puzzled. “Why would I want to leave? I haven’t seen any of you in ages. Sorry about that, by the way. Been a bit busy with-”

“Ah, bullshit!” Snapped Suki.

“You haven’t seen us because we cut you off, idiot.” Chenille hissed.

“Sooooo,” Despite sitting, Satin still manage to emit a defensive force, chin held high and arms folded tight. “We really don’t want to associate with you anymore. Ever. And if you could, y’know, _respect that_ , then everything would be fantastic, wouldn’t it?”

A pause.

Creek hummed. “Well. You’re being a bit harsh there, aren’t you, ladies?”

“They ain’t harsh, they’re right!”

Branch jumped at Cooper’s thunderous tone, heart stuttering before it retained its usual rate. He allowed a quick glance around to the Snack Pack, who remained unbothered by his outburst, still glowering at Creek.

_Does… does Cooper get angry often or…?_

“You don’t have the right to call anybody harsh for rejecting you, Creek. Once you cross the line into utterly despicable, you lose that privilege.”

_Biggie too, holy shit._

Creek blinked, looking just as stunned as Branch. “My God, Biggie. Didn’t expect something that scathing from _you_.”

His set stare did not soften as Biggie calmly replied. “I could say the same about you.”

Branch sucked a breath through his teeth. But as his head tipped up to catch Creek’s reaction, something occurred to him then and there. Something in the way Creek almost desperately zeroed in on Branch. And good God, did it hit him hard.

“Branch, mate.” Creek pulled up a lofty grin. “I _adore_ the hair. Is that your new thing now? Buttercups?” His tone, just mildly teasing, was so damn familiar.

“Can’t say it really goes with that scowl of yours but maybe once you practice a little more positivity, it might suit you more. What do you say? Of course, I understand if the idea of smiling on a regular basis would be a bit difficult for you.”

A silence followed. A silence that would have once been filled by underlying snickers that fed into Branch’s discomfort and fuelled infuriation.

But this time, there was nothing. Just Creek being an inconvenience. An inconvenience who appeared quite nervous by his lack of reaction.

Branch glanced to Suki, Smidge and Cooper, feigning an expression tinged in perplexity before turning back to Creek.

“Thanks for your opinion. Again.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “But I think it suits me just fine as it is.”

Somebody who lashed out, flew off the handle. Somebody bad tempered who Creek, ever tepid, could feel superior to. Because he may border on that loathsome line, but at least when Branch snapped, he could feel good about his sense of serenity.

He wondered what would happen if you starved Creek of that.

“Oh, ohhh, really?” Creek asked, looking politely interested, despite how tight his arms crossed.

“It suits you now, does it?” A light chuckle. “I suppose you’ve gone and become Mr. Sunshine in my absence, have you, Branch? Oh, mate, I’d love to see that. I don’t suppose it ever gets hard for you, does it?”

Branch squinted, sincerely baffled. “Does what get hard?”

“Well, fitting in with this lot, of course.” Creek gestured over the Snack Pack, with a swift wave of his hand. “Seeing as you’ve always been… well, not really the cheeriest person. You must clash with them every now and then.”

“Creek,” Satin sighed, exasperated. “What is it you want?”

“So, Branch,” He continued, apparently deaf to her question. “Do you still do all those things that makes you so iconic? Rejecting all of Poppy’s invitations? Crushing them right in front of her-?”

“No, I don’t.”

Creek was not done with his list, his smile only widening and looking more strained by the second. “Telling her you’d rather be caught dead then go to her party? Upsetting her? Making her cry? Or have you all just decided to forget about that?”

“Satin just asked you what you wanted.” Guy Diamond uttered, not looking up from his phone. “You gonna answer her?”

While Branch didn’t doubt he had seen it once or twice, the dumbstruck look that fell over Creek’s face, was still a sight to behold.

He stood expectantly for a few more seconds, as if waiting for Guy to raise his head and say more.

Guy did not.

“Yes, well, I just asked _Branch_ a few questions if you didn’t notice!” Creek retorted once his lips finally achieved speech, a hidden bite in his natural eloquence. “And maybe I’d like him to answer too.”

“I just did!” Branch was getting frustrated. “And I said no, you moron. Now answer Satin already and tell us what the fuck you want!”

“Jesus, why are you all so tetchy?!” Creek finally cracked, scanning the group incredulously. “I just wanted to say hello and see how everyone’s been doing lately and by the looks of it,”

He pointed an accusatory finger at Branch. “This bloke’s been rubbing off on all of you! Is that it?!” He demanded. “Has he been sucking all your good moods away? I know he’s been doing it our whole bloody lives but whose bright idea was it to let him hang around with you?”

“Alright! Y’know what?!” An infuriated voice finally piped up. “I’m not takin’ this!”

She didn’t rise, per say, but rather she bounced. Shooting up like a whack-a-mole, haphazard pink ponytail bobbing with the sudden motion.

Branch didn’t think much but copied her action like his gut ordered him to. Although his own stand was a lot less energetic and consisted mostly of a grunt and noisy joints.

_Jesus, how old am I?_

Creek chuckled, humour utterly hollow, at Poppy’s heated look. “Of course.” He seemed enlightened as he looked her over, that goddamn smile of condescendence resurfacing. “Of course, it was you that wanted Branch included. I should’ve known by your-”

“No!” She barked suddenly, a sound so harsh it startled everyone present.

“No! No! No! No! _No!”_   Poppy flew into a rapid-fire loop of the word with a furious insistence as she punctuated each with a vehement prod to Creek’s chest.

He recoiled at her jabbing touch but she refused to relent.

“No! No! No! I’m not taking this, I’m not taking you, I’m not taking any more of this slithery head games bullshit, I’m not in the mood, Creek!”

Creek gaped, eyebrows shooting up his hairline. “Excuse me?! What the Hell did I do?!”

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me?!” She shrieked, a mutual sound of outraged agreement rising from the Snack Pack as they got to their feet.

“You know what you did, you know _everything_ you did. And I sure as Hell, don’t wanna dig it all up and lay it out for ya. That’s the last thing I wanna do! But you know what I _do_ wanna do? What I had my fucking heart set on?!”

Feral faced and saucer eyed, Poppy threw her arms out to the surrounding group, accidentally smacking Branch’s stomach in the process.

He winced.

“Sorry, bud.”

“I’ll live.”

“Anyway!” She whirled them back to the subject at hand. “I wanna hang out with my friends. I-I wanna get into one of those laughing fits where I’m crying and my breathing’s all wheezy and weird. I wanna talk to the girls about what day we’re gonna go shopping and get excited over how fun it’s gonna be. I wanna see how many sandwiches I can fit in my mouth-”

“You gotta beat a hundred and seventy-two, by the way.”

Cooper received a sharp shush from Smidge.

“I wanna sit around and braid Branch’s stupid pretty hair. I just wanna have one of those good, fun days, y’know? That was the day I wanted to have this morning and I was so close to getting it!”

“Oh, so, what, just having to look at me was enough to ruin your perfect day?” Creek sneered, his patience gradually diminishing with every word Poppy spoke.

“Yes! Yes, as a matter of fact, it was!”

Another forced chuckle that devolved into a disbelieving scoff, his panic crystal clear in the glint of his eyes. “W-well, do you-do you want to know where I think all of this is coming from, Poppy?”

“Whaddya mean where’s it coming from? It’s coming from me being pissed at you!”

“No, it’s exactly what I was saying. It’s coming from him!”

“This again? Really?” Branch groaned, staring irritated at the finger pointed his way.

“Branch isn’t the one I’m mad at, dumbass!”

“No, but he’s the reason you’re so angry.”

Poppy blinked, her confusion only powering the dead-set rage. “No, he’s not, it’s-”

“Poppy, where do you think this temper came from all of a sudden?” Creek spoke over her, determined for himself to be heard. “It’s not you.”

Her stance stiffened. “It _is_ me,” She said in a voice soft and steady, but a tone far more adamant than anything Branch had ever heard from her.

“No, it’s not,” Creek replied with a shake of his head, just as gentle and just as firm. “It’s having him around you so much. I know you and you’re not like this,”

Her jaw clenched. “Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not. Now, listen-”

“No, _you_ listen!”

Creek yelped in alarm, as Poppy snatched his wrist and yanked him to her eye-level. “You don’t get to tell me being angry isn’t me.” She ground out. “Especially when I’ve got plenty of reasons to be angry. I got played, I got swindled and I got a whole ton of my feelings messed with,”

“Hey, uh, Poppy, are you-?” Suki stepped forward cautiously, only for Branch to pull her back by the shoulder, with a hushed “Let her do this.” under his breath.

Visibly struggling with her grasp, Creek still took the opportunity to roll his eyes. “There you go again, blowing things out of proportion. Just like that little tantrum you had at my apartment. Acting all dramatic over a little-”

“Because I _am_ dramatic, that’s what I am!” Her voice cracked with frustration. “I feel things, Creek. I feel ‘em real big. And I can be big happy, big angry, or big sad or-or whatever! It isn’t the same thing as being a smiling idiot all the time. That’s never been what it was!”

“Then why _were_ you a smiling idiot all this time, Poppy?” He asked with a tight, twitching smirk. “You seem to be a three-dimensional individual only in theory and not in practice. Because I can tell you with upmost certainty, that a smiling idiot was the girl I knew all these years.”

Several Snack Pack members broke into aggressive exclaims, that comment even causing Branch to slip, (“You rotten, heartless, fucking-”) but Poppy drowned them all out with her own objection.

“Because I’m a goddamn ray of sunshine, asshole!” She fumed. “And I can be completely aware that things aren’t all cupcakes and rainbows without going grey. I like being the way I am. But that doesn’t mean every time I wanna feel something else, I gotta be shoved right back into my li’l happy box.”

“Alright, alright, fine, will you let go of my arm?!” Creek pulled away with as much force as noodle limbs would allow. “I’ll acknowledge it if it makes you stop whining. You’re not just cupcakes and rainbows. You’re a whole heap of chaotic emotions and you’re a complete bloody mess. Are you happy now?”

“Delighted.”

Creek rose a brow, astonished. “He’s even got you using sarcasm.”

“And you made me question my self-worth and sold my family’s precious heirloom.” Poppy retorted, a parody of her signature sugary smile playing across her lips. “A little sarcasm ain’t exactly the biggest problem I’ve had to face when it comes to boyfriends.”

His head tipped back in theatrical vexation. “You’re still upset about the bell, eh?”

“Why wouldn’t I be upset about the bell?!”

“You gave it to me!”

“You guilted me into it!”

“It’s in the past,”

“That doesn’t mean I magically forget about it!”

“Let it go, Poppy.”

“Own up to it, _Creek_.”

A silence dropped, tension in every breath and body language unyielding.

Creek’s neck and shoulders loosened in an exhale and he folded his arms without a word, his stare set on Poppy, somehow a balance between childlike stubbornness and his usual aura of detachment.

Poppy frowned, and Branch could have sworn he had seen a look similar when he refused to make her chocolate melted popcorn. However, a look so mild right now, was deeply unsettling.

He shuffled a little closer to her side, uncertain if she were about to explode in fury again or maybe just burst into tears.

Both. Both was also a possibility.

But as the seconds counted on, neither seemed likely. And once she finally sighed, Branch tuned in to her thought process. She had given up.

Poppy drew herself her full height and made sure her eyes were locked with Creek’s. She spoke soft but definite. “I think you’re a lying, manipulative, downright awful piece of shit.”

Offense pinched Creek’s forehead but through a deliberate swallow and another quick glance towards the Snack Pack, he nodded.

“And honestly, I hope I never have to see you again.”

Another nod. One that seemed far easier for him to manage.

“And lastly, I hope nobody ever gets fucked over by you again.”

Why that struck a chord, Branch couldn’t be sure but Creek’s anger was subtle yet blatant in narrowed eyes and clenched fists.

“Fair enough.” He said in a clipped voice. “And I wish you the best.”

Poppy took her turn to nod.

“I hope you’re finally free to feel as you please.”

Nod.

His lip curled in an unpleasant smile. “And I must admit,” He looked pointedly between Poppy and Branch. “You two are a perfect match and don’t you believe who tells you otherwise.”

The two of them shared a quick questioning glance, wondering if they were supposed to thank him for that. But Creek had already carried on before a decision could be made.

“If I’m being honest, when I think of an emotional disaster like Poppy, I wouldn’t pair her with anyone else-” His voice dropped to a spiteful hiss. “-But a self-loathing waste-”

And that did it.

A reflex? An instinct? Or just the final straw? Branch had no idea but frankly did not give a fuck, predominantly concerned with throwing himself out of harm’s way as it happened.

A small fist rose like a shooting star from the skies of Hell and crashed with a vengeance, straight into Creek’s nose.

He was knocked to the ground, a strangled squawking noise erupting from his throat as his hands frantically flew up to clutch his ruptured face.

Every head turned to Poppy with horrid curiosity, only to find her looking just as shocked as they were. She towered over Creek, body frozen and balled fist still held high. Branch wondered if the throb in her knuckles had even caught up with her yet.

Her lips parted and she spoke a single breathless word.

“Boop.”

And before anyone could shake themselves from their stupor, before Creek could speak a word, before Poppy herself would let guilt settle in, she turned on her heel and strode away.

As she left, it was as though she carried the magic play button away with her, the scene in her wake remaining on pause.

Besides Creek, of course, who was venting shock through frantic gasps as he tugged down his sleeve to stem the blood flow from his nose.

“Holy shit.” Said Smidge, the first person to find her words. “She can pack one.”

Branch nodded, gaze held captive by the back of her form, distancing itself farther and farther. “She sure can.”

Someone thumped his forearm and with one incredulous look at Chenille’s expectant expression, his bubble of bewilderment popped and he snapped to attention.

He cleared his throat. “Okay, um, I’m gonna go check to see if she’s alright and uh,” He was shouldering through the group. “Not sure how long we’ll be but we’ll catch up with you whenever we-”

“Oh yes, please go find her.” Somebody spoke up, aggression evident even in a breathy, wobbling voice. “Go tell that lunatic to get a hold of herself before she assaults someone else.”

Branch stopped dead in his tracks, standing stiff in contemplation as the bursts of retaliations exploded from the Snack Pack.

“You know damn well she wouldn’t hurt anyone unless provoked!”

“And who do we know that provoked her?!”

“You know what? After what you said about both of them, I don’t even fucking blame her,”

“Okay.” Branch said firmly, successfully clamping every jaw shut. He bunched his fists into jacket pockets and turned around to find the group had walled up against a petulant Creek. He was still on the ground, lower portrait hidden by his blood-stained wrist.

Branch stepped closer, eyeing Creek’s poor attempt at nursing his nose before glancing back at Cooper. “Do you have any tissues?”

“Why me?!” He looked about as offended as someone like Cooper could possibly get.

“Yes or no, Coop.”

“He does.” Said Biggie, poking irritably at Cooper’s shoulder. “Give them to him.”

Not spared a sulk, Cooper reluctantly dug around in baggy jeans and passed Branch a stack of (unused) napkins, which Branch then dropped at Creek’s feet.

“Well, aren’t you going to go handle that unhinged girlfriend of yours, mate?” He muttered, not looking up as he snatched up the paper offerings. He peeled away a single sheet and mopped it against his nose.

“Believe me, she’s fully capable of handling herself without me. At least for the time being.”

The corners of Creek’s mocking smile protruded from behind his napkin. He tutted rhythmically “Something’s telling me you’ve got yourself a tirade to go on too. Am I right?”

Branch answered with nothing more than an unimpressed grimace, silently noting how Creek immediately drew away from eye contact, gaze sinking back to his knees.

_Am I dealing with a fucking hedgehog here?_

He offered a hand. A hand that, in his own opinion, had been thoroughly cleaned, fingernails clipped even and dried skin scrubbed.

Yet Creek still stared at it with a look of revulsion before tucking his knees tight against his chest.

“C’mon, man. Stand up.”

“No.”

Branch couldn’t help but roll his eyes, as his hand fell limp at his side. So, this was how they were going to do it? Goddammit.

Their current positions were… uncomfortable. Increasingly uncomfortable. Branch had to wrack his brains to recall who was taller anyway. Was it him or Creek? Fuck…was it-…? Fuck. He didn’t know anymore.

It had always _felt_ like Creek was the taller one. Or maybe it had all been in his head.

Branch was short. He had been short all his life. The idea of looming so high over someone was not a feeling he was used to. (Well, except with Smidge but there was _no_ chance of a power imbalance there. She made damn sure he knew that.)

But right now, his height advantage, doubled with the Snack Pack trooped up behind him, with those ever so effective prying eyes, all felt very unnatural.

“You guys need to leave.” He said bluntly.

They were better as friends than ammunition anyway.

Branch turned around to find seven faces balked in shock.

“Excuse me?” Satin asked coolly, a dangerous edge to her calm.

“I said…uh…” He gestured to their jumbled picnic display, internally groaning at dissected sandwiches and scatterings of plastic wrappers. “Poppy and I will clean all this up. Once I find her. You guys head down to the ice-cream place and order and we’ll meet you there in… twenty minutes? Okay?”

All offense the Snack Pack felt dissolved on the spot, the dream concept of not having to deal with their own mess, working its charm as well as expected.

Before Branch could take a breath, they had cleared the area, Smidge and Cooper already mere steps away from the park exit with the rest of them chasing at their tails.

All except for one.

Which then became two.

“Guy!” Satin called, whirling around with a flip of her hair. Upon noticing him still rooted to his spot, she jogged back to his side. “What’s up? You coming or not?”

He had finally lowered his phone, his vacant stare fixed on Creek. The latter stared back, just as intently.

The stillness was interrupted as Satin’s hand slid down Guy’s wrist and gave a gentle tug. His eyes fell down, then up to her face, as if just now realizing her presence.

“Well? Ready?”

Guy nodded slowly, gradually resurfacing from inside his own head. He then glitched through an automatic glance back at Creek before his gaze returned insistently to Satin, with a vexed twitch in his eye.

They left.

Branch blinked after them, bemused. Judging by the way Guy had been staring Creek down, he had been expecting a bit more of a climax.

And by the look on Creek’s face, once distantly serene features now dropped in absolute astonishment, he was thinking the same thing.

Empty silence was held between them, a mild breeze sweeping through the grass but ever so polite as not to whir too loud. Once it passed and no sound remained to fill the air, Branch broke the pact.

He crouched to the ground, with none of the grace of someone who routinely bends his knees. His legs crackled, catching the other party’s attention. And to Branch’s surprise, Creek’s eyes then flared quick as a firecracker.

“I don’t need to hear it!” He was suddenly snapping, having struck like a python. “I don’t _want_ to hear it, Branch! You and I both know it’ll be a waste of our time to get into all of this.” His hands wrung frantically around his napkin. “You’ve-… you’ve given me enough of that melodramatic nonsense of yours so why don’t you just save your breath and-!”

“Woah, woah, calm down!” Branch cut him off, throwing up his palms into stop-signs.

Creek rarely so much as glared, let alone looked at someone like he wanted to strangle them. But holy shit.

“Don’t. You. _Dare_ tell me to calm down,” He hissed. “I’m one of the calmest people you’ll ever meet and you’re a hot-tempered wreck, you don’t get to say anything!”

“Are you-…?” Branch’s hands lowered and with a cock of his head and a furrowing brow, the words he thought tumbled out his mouth. “Are you okay?”

A split second of speechlessness before-

“NO!” Creek practically shrieked. “W-why the Hell would I be okay?! Are-are you not…d-did you see this?!”

Branch shot back reflexively as bloodied paper was thrust in his face. Creek then furiously crumpled it into a ball and tossed.

“I thought you were against littering.”

“You can pick it up yourself. You’re clearing up your picnic mess anyway.” He replied with a curt shrug as he removed another napkin from the stack and scrubbed the crimson crust under his nostrils. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be getting on with that?”

“You think I’d still be here sitting on the ground and talking to you like you’re a pre-schooler if I didn’t have some stuff to say?”

Creek gave him a flat look. “Will it take long?”

Branch waggled three fingers before him. “Just three things.”

His shoulders dropped in a defeated sigh. “Go on then.”

“Well, firstly,” Stretching into a sitting position, Branch felt a smirk at the exasperation on Creek’s face. Making himself comfortable was a tell-tale sign that this _would_ in fact take long. “Sorry about your nose.”

His bottom lip fell, blinking owlishly to stim up a proper response. “My-…my nose-…you’re...”

“Today would be nice, Creek,”

“I don’t need an apology from _you!_ ” He finally managed, a blatant bite in his voice. “Poppy was the one who punched me, I need-”

“An apology from her. I know.” Branch’s monotone rose volumes over him. “And that’s why I’m giving you one.”

“… Excuse me?”

“Is your nose broken?”

“No?”

“Then quite frankly,” He made sure to look Creek in the eye, as he gave a breezy shrug of the shoulders. “I don’t give a fuck if you got punched.”

Creek opened his mouth, a response hot on his tongue before Branch powered on.

“But Poppy will. And I know in the next ten minutes or so, her guilt is gonna catch up to her and she’s gonna want to apologize. So, I’m just saving her the time and doing it myself.”

“Aww, how very considerate of you,” Creek wheedled, with a taut, mocking sneer.

“Thanks.”

“That was sarcasm, mate.”

Branch snorted. “Well, yeah, duh. I know damn well you’ve never given a sincere compliment in your life. But hey,” He turned to Creek with an airy smile. “What you said was technically correct so, is it really sarcasm?”

A mix of irritation and confusion shone clear in quavering eyebrows and Creek’s unintentional impression of a goldfish. After a stretch of seconds, he quietly spoke.

“You’ve gotten very cocky since the last time I saw you.”

Branch’s smile only widened. He nodded proudly. “Thanks again.”

“In my opinion, it’s quite unlikeable for someone like you.”

“Yeah, well,” He slouched back, shifting his weight to the arm propping him upwards. “In your opinion, Poppy’s an idiot and those gaudy yellow pants of yours are fashionable. You don’t exactly have the greatest opinions, do you, Creek?”

A pause.

“And just so you know, this is the first complaint I’ve gotten about being cocky. The Snack Pack, Gristle, Bridget….Poppy, they all seem to like the change. They…..actually like me. It’s pretty cool.”

Creek’s fingers curled over his lap. But despite his silent seething, he hesitated in forming a fist. “You know, I’m starting to think you don’t care about Poppy nearly as much as you say you do.”

That smacked the smile clean off Branch’s face.

“And what makes you say that?” He asked, voice like gravel.

“She punched me in the face, Branch.”

“Yes. I was there.”

“Obviously, she was mad at me,”

“Furious.”

“I hurt her in a way that made her lash out and physically strike me,”

“Indeed you did.”

“So!” Creek’s tone shrilled incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be mad too? On her behalf?!”

Branch blanked, his prior anger ebbing away as complete befuddlement settled in.

_Is this idiot serious?_

“I _am_ mad.”

“No, you’re not!” Creek had undone his locked knees and had burst into Branch’s personal bubble, the crease of his features straying close to outrage. “I know you, Branch! And you know me. And you bloody well detest me,”

“Wow. Observant.”

“So, if anyone knows what you’re like when you’re mad, it’s me. Hell, why weren’t _you_ the one to pack the punch?!”

Branch quirked an eyebrow. “Do-…do you want me to?”

“You know what I mean!”

For a little while, Creek’s cries floated unanswered in the open air. Finally, a puff escaped through Branch’s nose in a silent laugh.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” He nodded, pushing Creek away by the shoulder. “But… let’s think about it. When has losing my temper and screaming at you, ever done me a lick of good?”

Creek shuffled back but while he seemed to internally structure a reply, he ultimately kept his mouth shut.

Branch continued. “You never cared when I got mad. None of it ever got through to you. It was like yelling at a steel wall. A steel wall who made me feel like shit for feeling so strongly at all. So, tell me, why should I bother to strain my throat, dent up my fists and get all fired up because of some pathetic slime-bag who’s not even gonna let a word of it faze him?”

“So-…so…” Creek trailed off before swallowing tight. “So, you’re saying everything Poppy said to me, was a waste of breath then? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Nah.” Branch shook his head, mutely marvelling at just how determined Creek was to throw out the malice like his life depended on it. “She’s not like me. She’s been sweet to you all her life. But man, she really needed to yell about all that bullshit you put her through. It was good for her, got it out of her system and all. I don’t think Poppy even realized but. she was saying all that for _her._ Not for you.”

Creek scoffed so fast, he almost choked.

“Hey. Speaking of Poppy, I gotta get to the second thing I wanted to say,”

“I’m on the edge of my seat.”

While a sharp “Shut up” sounded at the back of his head, Branch didn’t vocalize it. Instead he took a moment to grasp at his point. Flyaway thoughts that had accumulated over the weeks reemerged aimlessly, with a hope that he would properly articulate them.

They were thoughts that initially spiked rage. But as the weeks dragged and he lay awake at night, red-hot infuriation gradually cooled and hardened into something far more stable. He liked to call what he felt acceptance, but he couldn’t deny that if was built on a foundation of resentment.

He _was_ mad at Creek.

But a quiet kind of mad, a tired kind of mad and most prominently a hopeless kind of mad. One that didn’t come in bursts of fury but rather churned his stomach at midnight, as Poppy muttered bitterly into the crook of his neck.

He had wished she was kept awake by an overdose on Pixy Stix. But no, she had been stewing in her own mistakes that night and Branch could pin the blame on nobody but Creek.

“It’s permanent.” He muttered, molars clenched. Seconds came and went before Branch repeated himself, a little louder this time. “It’s permanent. No-…no matter how long it takes, she’s going to remember. There’s always going to be proof that it happened, it-”

“Proof?” Creek interrupted. “Proof? Permanent, what? Sorry but er…” He shook his head, fluttering eyelids in polite puzzlement. “I’m not following.”

“That stupid bell of hers was a part of her family’s history. She’s got plenty of relatives and I’m sure they’re gonna wonder where it is. Did you ever think of what Poppy will have to tell them?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Branch was certain he saw a flash of realization tarnish Creek’s compromised features.

“Fuck, every time someone brings it up, she’ll have to explain that _you_ -” Branch lightly prodded Creek’s forehead, the latter stumbling back to avoid contact. (My hands are clean, you bastard.) “-were a part of her life at some point. You were a huge fucking mistake but an influential one.”

Branch threw his hands out in sarcastic celebration. “So, congratulations! You’ve shoehorned yourself into that entire family’s timeline. The dick who put a stop to their century old Cow Bell tradition. Poppy can talk about never seeing you again but fucking Hell, she’s never gonna be able to forget you. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

A beat of silence.

Creek gnawed his bottom lip. “You’re making it out like I did all this for my own entertainment.” He said in a controlled tone, shredding his napkin into little snowflakes that fell in his lap. “I didn’t. I’m not going to brag about it any time in future, in case you’re wondering. But sometimes there are situations where you need to put yourself first.”

“And for you, those situations are all the time.”

He swallowed down his retort, before turning back to Branch, expression airy as ever. “Come on. You have to admit, that tradition of hers was downright ridiculous.”

“Of course it’s ridiculous, it’s Poppy!” He barked suddenly. Eyes then widened, startled by his own outburst and he drew himself in. “But it doesn’t matter what _we_ think of it. It’s important to her and she trusted you enough to-”

“Oh my God!” Creek groaned far louder than Branch thought he was capable of. Weeks-worth of frustration were pent up in that voice of his. “Poppy’s not going to get anywhere by dwelling on this. There’s nothing that can be done about it. Can’t the goddamn girl just let go and move on?”

“No, she can’t.” Branch’s patience was transparent. “That’s why she’s so angry that you act like it’s no big deal. _You_ can let go just fine. But just because it’s not a problem for you, doesn’t mean it’s not a problem at all.”

Creek thought about speaking but eventually settled on clamping his mouth shut. He said nothing at all and with the seconds, came the faintest nod.

“I’m not sure what I expected to get out of this. I think I just wanted you to know exactly what you did.”

Branch’s fascination was piqued by the way Creek squirmed in his spot, the line of his mouth struggling to remain neutral. While unnoticeable unless of interest, his whole damn face was most definitely under strain.

He snorted. “Having an emotion isn’t going to kill you, y’know.”

This joke apparently did not sit well with Creek. Eyes sharp as razorblades were on him in an instant. “Don’t lie to me. As if your emotions haven’t almost killed you several times.”

Branch went still. His insides reeled with a familiar sense of unsettlement, but it didn’t linger. The fragment of a feeling passed like a shadow and he felt himself exhale. “You’re hopeless.”

“Am I now?” Creek asked, his defensive frame sinking. He didn’t sound offended anymore. Just tired and uninterested.

“You are.”

“Suppose I’ll just have to live with it then.”

Branch made a move to stand but Creek stopped him with a sentence.

“What’s the third thing?”

“The what?”

“You said you had three things to say, didn’t you? Best to keep your promises.” His tone was breezy but a shockingly stark contrast to the tense fingers that ripped the remains of his napkin in half. “You’ll find a lot of people don’t trust you when you don’t.”

_Oh, right. How could we have forgotten?_

He didn’t speak nor did he move. Creek, confused by the silence, turned to look at him only to be met with a steely gaze.

Branch opened his mouth and spoke slow as molasses and clear as crystal. “I’m not a self-loathing waste, Creek. And don’t you say that about anyone ever again.” Every word was spoken with emphasis, as if each was a persistent little nail attempting to drill itself into Creek’s skull.

The man never listened to a thing he said. But goddammit, what Branch wouldn’t give for this to sink in.

With that, he stood. Stiff knees wobbled, one palm slipping into his jacket pocket, while the other-

“One last chance. Need a hand-up or not?”

Creek didn’t accept. Creek didn’t object. Creek just dropped his head and stared at flecks of torn tissue, turning a blind eye to the helping hand that hovered above him.

“Suit yourself, _mate_.”

And Branch was gone.

* * *

“I did ballet when I was little, y’know,”

She spun into what was meant to be an elegant twirl, balanced on the tips of her toes before losing her footing. Poppy squeaked in alarm as she stumbled forward, arms spreads like a plane to steady herself. For a moment, she stood frozen in her near-death stance before clearing her throat and standing upright as if nothing happened.

“I, uh… wasn’t all that great at it.”

Her audience remained uninterested, only half bothering to look at her and even then, all they did was quack for food. With a pout, Poppy rested her elbows over the bridge and peered down at Antonio. He had truly been the most unsympathetic of the flock, choosing to block out her yammering and throw his ass to the sky as usual.

Goddammit, she was trying to calm herself down here. The least they could do was humour her.

“I notice you guys have been present to some of the most significant moments in my young life, to date.” Poppy mused, putting on a casual air despite some obvious bitterness.

“And not that I’m _mad_ or anything but I was under the impression that maybe you’d care enough about me to listen. I felt we were on that level. But hey, what do I know, right? I’m just-…”

She trailed off, hearing familiar footsteps halt a space behind her. A breathy sound through his nose that was barely a chuckle painted a perfect picture in her head. He was smirking.

“Does the Master of Comedy have something he’d like to say?” Poppy snarked, eyes still on the water below.

“Not at all. He was just wondering why Little Miss Sunshine has such beef with the ducks.”

“It’s not _beef_.” She corrected. “It’s just a disagreement between friends.”

“Is that what it is?” Branch scoffed, having wandered to her side, back against the bridge and head tipped back to catch the clouds. “Huh. You’d think I’d recognize those by now.”

The irony took its sweet time processing before Poppy dipped her head in giggles.

“And you say ‘Master of Comedy’ sarcastically.”

She didn’t quip back, allowing her laugh to naturally fade until they had fallen into another peace. Well, all was peaceful except the quacking ducks. But if you’ve visited this cursed bridge as often as Poppy, you learn to get used to them.

“How you feeling, bud?” He asked, softer than duckling fluff.

Poppy shook her head despite herself, nails scratching thoughtfully up her wrist. “Okay… _I think_ …?” She looked up. “How are you supposed to feel after you punch a guy?”

“Well, do your knuckles hurt?”

“Kinda.”

“Okay then. You’re feeling how you’re supposed to feel when-”

“That’s not what I mean!”

She flailed her arms in his general direction, lightly whacking his shoulder in the process.

Branch gasped, making a show of seizing the area as if he had been severely wounded.

Poppy had to chuckle. “ _The dramatics_ ,”

His face split a grin. A look that held steady until his hand slid down his upper arm and his lips fell. “I told him you were sorry about the hit,” He shrugged. “If that’s any consolation.”

She nodded with a sigh of relief, grateful but not surprised in the slightest. “Thank you.”

Branch didn’t reply with words but fell back into place beside her. His forearm bumped against hers.

“He called you some rotten stuff too, y’know. Are-are you….?”

“I’m fine. Insults from him definitely don’t sting as much as they used to.”

“You sure you don’t wanna-?”

“I don’t want to go into it.” He said curtly. “Let’s stick to the point here and focus on _your_ feelings.”

Concern squirmed around her insides but she decided not to push the issue. At least not now.

Poppy puffed through closed lips, producing an excellent (in her own opinion) impression of a horse. Stray strands of hair flew over her forehead. “I kinda think I feel good after all this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I-…well-…” She gesticulated flurrying hands over her chest. “All the angry stuff I’ve been buildin’ up for weeks I just-” She gestured flinging the words out her mouth. “-went and hurled it all out in one big rage bomb. And now it’s out and-and… it’s good. It’s really good.”

“So, you feel better then?”

“Yep, better. Lighter. Buuuuut I dunno if that’s from saying all that stuff or maybe I just lost a ton of weight.”

“No, it’s definitely not that.”

Branch received a sharp look and winced in realization. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just-…” He hurried out. “What I meant was that’s not possible. You ate three large pizzas all on your own the other night so there’s no way you could’ve-”

“I _never_ back down from a dare, my man.” She said solemnly.

“Suki tried to tell you at least ten times that she only dared you as a joke. She didn’t actually expect you to-”

Poppy swiftly hooked her forefinger into his neck-hole and with a vehement tug, forced them face-to-face.

“How’s about you cut the bullshit, Branch. Look me in the eye and tell me that you did not watch me obliterate those pizzas in total awestruck silence. Tell me that once I victoriously scarfed down the last slice, you did not think to yourself that you wanted to fucking marry me on the spot. Tell me that.”

Branch’s eyes popped in astonishment. His mouth opened to retort but all he managed was a “Wh-” and a flustered wheeze.

A trembling finger rose and pointed frantically to her grasp on him. “What-…what-…what-....” He forced out a steadying exhale. The lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “What did we say about manhandling me?”

Eyebrows high and humour still in the air, Poppy released, raising her palms in surrender. She took a step back and tucked her right foot behind her left ankle. “Not in public?”

“Not in public.”

A bouncy smile lingered on her lips, as she spoke in a teasing tone. “I can’t help but notice you didn’t answer the question,”

Having regained some semblance of composure, he released a noise that pierced like a gameshow buzzer.

Poppy jumped at the sudden sound, which alit the amusement in his eyes.

“What did we say about asking _those_ kinds of questions?”

Her frame slumped disappointedly. “Not in public?” She repeated, exaggerated woe dripping off her tongue.

“Ding, ding, ding.”

With a roll of the eyes and hands to her hips, Poppy proceeded to try her luck. “So, lemme guess. If I said I wanted to kiss you right here, right now, you wouldn’t be down?”

Branch clicked his tongue as an affirmative. “Now, you’re starting to catch on.”

He closed the gap between them, and with a ruffle of her hair, and a smug smile slapped on his face, brought their gazes together again. Poppy bet her last nectarine, that this move was a deliberate taunt. He was _literally_ rubbing it in her face.

“I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you.” She mimicked in a voice that was anything but Branch-like.

The imitation poked at his nerves. He reopened the distance between them, taking extra care to chew his bottom lip to direct attention to his mouth, which he then took away from her.

Poppy made a lemon-sucked face and folded her arms in indignation. “But it’s like a tradition at this point to kiss here. C’mon, it can be our thing!”

Branch shook his head with clear satisfaction, hands tucked deep into his pockets, oblivious to the molehill of an idea that was building inside Poppy’s head.

“Fine. I guess _I_ won’t be kissing _you_ then.” She sighed, turning around and pressing her backside to the bridge and her palms to the surface. She jumped, with a “Hup!” sound but failed to scoop herself up.

“Hey, bud, gimme a boost.”

“There’s…” Branch glanced from her to an appropriate seating not five steps away. He pointed. “There’s a bench right there.”

“Yes.” Poppy nodded obviously. “And there’s a bridge right here. Gimme a boost.”

Sparing a moment to fleck his eyes to the heavens, Branch took hold of her hips and popped her up on the bridge. “There. Happy?”

“Delighted,” She simpered, leaning back _juuuust_ enough to prove effective.

His arms locked reflexively around her waist and Poppy staged a look of surprise.

“Oh, another unscheduled hug time?”

“No.” Branch answered flatly. “I would just rather you didn’t fall and drown on my watch. You were tipping dangerously close to the edge there.”

“Pffft, nah,” She waved a dismissive hand, swinging teasingly with nothing but his hands on her lower back, as a harness. “I’m sure I won’t fall. It’s fine if you let go,”

This only caused his grip to tighten and Poppy had to hold down her smile before it grew any wider.

“Alright, if ya gotta,” She shrugged with an air of nonchalance, draping her arms over his shoulders. “Thank you for keeping me safe. Honestly, what would I do without you?”

While the noise he made was intended to be one of exasperation, his face had lit up so distinctly, that the image he was trying to present was thoroughly dashed. “Yes, I’m amazing. I know.”

“You really are though,” She commented, one hand spidering up the back of his head and flicking the forgotten buttercup braid down over his temple.

Branch groaned quietly at its reappearance.

“Hey. Hey. Heeeeeeeey.”

He met her eyes, a clear “What?” etched in his expression.

Poppy took a moment to breathe him in and once she stared long enough, a sunshiny beam progressed naturally across her face. She mustered up the most syrupy of tones she was capable of. “I love you,”

The words brought upon a rapid spread of pink beneath his skin and an unplanned laugh escaped her as she observed his features loosen in discombobulation.

“I know _that_ ,” He managed, noticeably short of breath. “You tell me all the time. Of course, I know that.”

Well, that was true, yes. Poppy threw the phrase around like free candy and when it came to Branch, it wouldn’t surprise her if he was sick of her bubblegums and lollipops by now.

But when it was sprung as a surprise, she often got the reaction she was hoping for.

Poppy gave him a look, tilting her chin expectantly.

Branch hesitated a split second before his head swivelled to give the surrounding area a swift examination.

“Oh, come oooooooon!” She drummed his shoulders with growing impatience. “Nobody’s paying attention to us!”

He stared pointedly at a middle-aged Bergen couple who strolled behind them and continued to do so until they had crossed the bridge.

Branch turned back to her, stiff shoulders relaxing. “Love you too.” He muttered.

“You sure took your sweet time,” Poppy tutted. She then cupped his face and propped it upwards to catch the light of the high sun.

“You’re lucky I said it at all.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, slanting his head from side-to-side. While her ploy was most definitely not forgotten, the pooling warmth she felt was genuine and her words sincere as can be. “You’re real pretty.”

He was. The fading remains of his blush still burned bright, bleeding into purple stains that hung under heavy eyelids. Buttercups dotted the side of his face with spots of golden glow, Summer sky irises lustrous in the sunshine.

While he still insisted an association with dusty greys and the murkiest of greens, Poppy knew better. Poppy would declare even on her dying breath that Branch was continuously brimming with a billion colors.

He made another of those strangled scoffing noises, to downplay his embarrassment. “You tell me that all the time,”

It was said in such a way that implied Branch tired of the way she spoke to him. At least that’s how it was _supposed_ to come across. But it was too soft, too mumbly and betrayed by eyes that wouldn’t meet hers for a moment there.

“Want me to stop?”

He said nothing, adjusting his clasp around her waist. That was as much of an answer as she needed.

Poppy chuckled, a sound that had a tendency to yank up the corners of Branch’s lips and today was no different. He raised his head, small smirk predictably in place.

“You gotta learn to accept all the love I try to give ya, bud.”

Branch cocked a brow. “Have you ever tried to swallow a whole tablespoon of sugar?”

She couldn’t choke back her laugh. “That is _not_ what my love is like!”

The laugh was contagious. “Well, it’s pretty damn close!”

Poppy formed a pout, but being as giggly as she currently was, couldn’t hold it together for the life of her.

“Aww, but let’s be real,” An affectionate state of mind had her fingers eagerly touchy. Poppy pressed her palms a little firmer against his face and fondly slid her thumbs across the trail of his cheekbones. “You’ve got a sweet tooth just like the rest of us,”

She repeated the gesture once, twice, three times. As while Branch was constantly unfurling himself with new, hidden surprises, she had observed and taken note weeks ago, that he had an affinity for stroking.

Upon noticing that look on face, his smile as gooey as the atmosphere, she acted. She didn’t lean in too quick, nor too close as not to alert him that she was leaning in at all. She merely lowered her hands and tied them back around his neck and shuffled just an inch closer. Her knees bumped against his torso.

Poppy offered one last pleasant smile and that was that.

The gentle tug of her hips was an indication of success and she wriggled forward as he reeled her into an embrace.

His eyes slid shut as he wafted in her space and she pulled back for a miniscule moment to admire. Victory shone on her face, tongue tucked smugly between her teeth.

However, she did not initiate any kind of kiss. Of course not. She had been instructed not to, after all. All Poppy did was draw herself close and let him find her.

That was her third kiss at Bergen Town Bridge.

And she still liked to believe in third time’s the charm.

If she wasn’t conscious of giving Branch a kick, Poppy would probably be swinging her legs like a delighted child on a countertop. Fighting the impulse, she settled them elsewhere, specifically twined tightly around Branch’s upper thighs.

Her ankles crossed like a lock and key, determined to at least milk this moment for all it’s worth as he would undoubtedly be catching on any minute now.

The ducks below were quacking up a ruckus which stirred up a treasured memory but also one adorably funny in hindsight.

Poppy broke the contact, just so her lips were free to murmur. “You sure you don’t want me to look at the ducks?”

“What, no,” He answered immediately, confused by her interruption. “Look at _me_ , I want-”

His sentence came to an abrupt halt as the awareness of their current activity struck him like a lightning bolt.

Branch tore away and yelled “For fuck’s sake!” so loud, Poppy had to wonder if that was not far more disruptive than mild PDA could ever be.

Face painted in petulance, he rapped repeatedly against her knees as a silent command to drop her grip. She did so, an uncontrollable fit of laughter spilling out her mouth as she hopped off the bridge.

“There is nothing funny about this!” He griped.

“ _Everything_ is funny about this!”

Branch was already striding down the bridge, Poppy flittering at his heels.

“No, it’s not! I told you, didn’t I tell you not to-?”

“Not to kiss you?”

_“Yes!”_

“But you kissed me though,” She had broken into a skip to keep up with him.

“I did _not!_ ”

“You _did!_ ”

Branch whirled around with a bluster, mouth thrown open and a retaliation at the ready.

At least she assumed he had one.

Poppy cocked her head competitively as he stood before her, struggling with a defence. However, all he managed were a collection of cut off breaths as he continued to think his words over again and again.

_He got nothin’_

His clouded eyes then cleared in a descent into realization. Branch deflated as he looked her over, nodding thoughtfully all the way.

She glanced down with raised eyebrows at the hand he produced in front of her. Poppy shook it, gaze setting back to his face.

Mouth drawn thin, he shrugged at her questioning stare.

“It was… impressive. I’ll give you that.”

She grinned broadly, still vigorously shaking Branch’s hand. “What can I say? _I’m_ impressive.”

“You have your moments.” He replied, chin held high in some semblance of dignity.

“Tell me I’m devious.”

“No.”

“Think I could work for the CIA?”

“No way in Hell.”

Poppy tugged him in by the hand she was clutching and swiftly curved an arm around his torso. “What about a criminal mastermind?”

Branch shook his head, with a laugh.

She nodded reasonably. “Okay, okay, understood. Let’s start small then. What abooouut…a measly pickpocket?”

“I doubt it.”

“Do ya?”

Poppy sprung back, hand held high and a slip of paper between her fingers.

Branch went wide in the eyes, palm snapping instantly over his jacket pocket. No familiar crumpling sound.

_“Poppy!”_

“Lookie, lookie,” She teased, fluttering it before him with great satisfaction. “It appears that I successfully picked a pock-woah there!”

He had lunged fast to snatch the paper but Poppy reacted reflexively, stretching her arm out of his reach. “The Hell are you doin’, my man?”

“Poppy, give it, give it back, I swear to God-!”

“Hey, buddy. Relax.” She attempted to sooth. “I didn’t actually steal anything worth it. You had no money in that pocket of yours so I just went and took-…”

Pulling the paper up to her vision, she trailed away.

The two shared a single silent look.

An excited gasp escaped her and Poppy drew the slip to puckered lips, with a hushed “Ooh,”

Branch flushed. “No, No! Nonono! Don’t you say anything. I don’t want to hear-”

“Branch, Branch, baby no, don’t worry.” Poppy hurried out, taking hold of his arms and squeezing reassuringly. “It’s cool, it’s great. It’s surprising sure but wow, it’s fantastic! I’m not gonna make fun of you or nothin’ over this. ‘Cause like,” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I have no right to talk, do I?”

He grimaced. “I-I didn’t mean to. Well, not really. It was-…um…it-it was an impulse buy. I was gonna return it which is why I kept the receipt and-”

“Branch.” She was squinting down at the receipt as if trying to decode a message. “It’s the only product on here. There must have been a reason you walked into the store in the first place, and you’re telling me this impulse buy right here, is the one thing you got? It wasn’t planned at all?”

“Yes.”

Poppy gave him a look. Branch sighed. “No…”

“So, you went in with the intention of buying it?”

He nodded.

“Huh. Well, uh, just outta curiosity, what got this idea into your head in the first place?”

“It’s just that I’ve… that I’ve been around you and the Snack Pack so much that I figured that I should probably…” His voice petered away, as if hoping Poppy would understand from that alone.

Her expression softened. “You don’t feel like you need to do this or anything, do ya, bud? You don’t, by the way. You don’t gotta do nothin’ to fit in.”

“Oh, yeah, I know _that_ ,” Branch was quick to assure her. “But-….buuuut…” His fingers ran tiredly through charcoal hair. “I wanted to do it. I still-…” He groaned. “I-…I think I still do want to do it. Or not. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Poppy’s pleasant surprise radiated in a sunny smile. “Weeeeell, I think it’d be really pretty. If that means anything to you.”

Branch hummed. “I’ll think about it.”

“If you do go through with it, you want me to help?”

“Yeah. You should be an expert at this by now, right?”

_Damn straight._

She shrugged, an action she hoped came across as humble. “I like to think I’m more than qualified.”

“Maybe tonight then.” Branch chewed away at a subtle grin. “Or maybe tomorrow. Or Hell, maybe in three years. I dunno, I’m indecisive.”

Poppy nodded cheerily. “Take all the time you need, buddy.”

“Believe me, I plan on it.” He replied, turning on his heel and walking on. “Now, come on.”

“Come on where?” She followed.

“I told the Snack Pack to go get ice cream and we would clean up what’s left of the picnic.”

“Why the Hell would you tell ‘em that?!” She asked incredulously as she fell into step with him, automatically taking his hand to hold.

“I had _reasons._ ”

Poppy rolled her eyes. She gave the paper one final glance before stashing it in her pocket.

A receipt for blue hair dye.

* * *

Roughly six months ago, Creek got socked square in the nose and no one in the Snack Pack had spoken a word of him since.

Poppy storming off in haste had been as much of an indictor as anyone needed. As far as the rules for cliques go, Creek was indisputably banished for life.

Nobody would ever think to themselves that it had been six months. These days, Creek was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind. They had no reason to.

Guy Diamond did though. He had always been acutely aware of the passage of time, the whole ‘aging’ concept stewing away in his little ‘Deepest Fears’ cabinet along with spiders, snakes and his beloved mother.

Being so conscious to every day that passed, of course Guy still thought about Creek. Specifically, how there were probably some things he still needed to hear.

But this prickly exterior he had grown in the last year had come with a significantly thick skull. Creek refused to believe he had ever done wrong. Especially when being told from someone he disliked.

However, someone he _didn’t_ dislike was another story. Worth a shot.

Hands on his hips, lip jutted out in contemplation, Guy gazed up at the loopy lettering that lazed over the entrance.

_‘Namaste.’_

The skilfully manipulative Creek Loose, to his eternal credit, had actually named his restaurant (His life’s dream and passion) ‘Namaste.’

And that was fucking hilarious.

Honestly, a part of him had hope that Creek sincerely believed the name to be a good idea. He thought back to an awkward but enthusiastic eleven-year-old who smacked his forehead into his yoga mat once he tried the Downward Dog pose for the first time. A name like this was an idea only that kid would come up with.

But then there was that other side of him. The more recent side, the nastier, emptier side. One that Guy caught glimpses of where there was nothing behind his eyes and a freezing smile on his face.

Nothing was real to that Creek. Not his words, nor his kindness or even his interests. They were a means to filling in hollow potholes in the depths of his compassion. Did Creek enjoy _anything_ he claimed to anymore? Guy couldn’t say for certain.

For that Creek, the name would be some ironic joke. He was fully aware of what archetype he was currently presenting as, after all. But whether it was a joke he would even muster a smirk at, was anyone’s guess.

Guy loomed closer, peering through the double glass panelled doors and with a stroke of luck he didn’t believe, spotted Creek immediately.

He was being held captive, strangely enough. A tiny Bergen woman, hunched over with age, had him firmly gripped by the wrists. He stared up at him, lips flapping a mile a minute and head bobbing insistently. Guy would assume he was being chastised if it weren’t for Creek’s forced but evident smile and the girl behind the open kitchen, smirking at his discomfort.

Creek was being aggressively praised (and possibly being given some unwanted advice) from a very old, very babbly customer.

The woman finally bid him farewell and hobbled out to where Guy was standing. He held the door open for her, to which she merely nodded in acknowledgment before stopping abruptly. She looked to him, a sharp edge to ancient eyes.

“You’re young boy, yes?”

“Um,” Guy’s eyes snapped uncertainly from the door to the woman. “Yes? Young boy. Very young. Still a vibrant youth-”

“Good.” She grunted. “Tell boy in there he needs to cut his hair. I tell him. I tell him _every day_ but no! No, does he listen? No, he doesn’t listen. He’s very good, he’s bright. He’s driven but this needs to stop. The boy doesn’t listen. He doesn’t listen.”

“Yeah, he really doesn’t.”

“Now, you!”

Guy Diamond jerked back as a walking stick was pointed dangerously close to his chest.

“You tell him. You tell him that. Young boys listen to young boys. You all do what each other do. You all want to be like other boys, yes?”

“Not necessarily-”

The woman made a gruff sound of dismissal, giving Guy’s chest a stern poke. “You tell him that.” She repeated once more, already shuffling past him.

He watched her leave, jaw hung loose in astonishment.

_Huh. Guess I got something else I gotta tell him._

Guy pushed the door open and stepped inside, taking a moment to process the set-up.

This place was most definitely nothing like Chef’s. Far less royally decorated and eased back with the atmosphere. Potted plants touched upon every corner and Guy fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Creek had always liked potted plants. A little too much.

There was no host to speak of. Or maybe they just weren’t needed at this time of day, as besides a lone greying man slumped over a bowl of soup, all the tables were free.

Guy Diamond crossed the dining area, deliberately choosing the table furthest from the kitchen. Pulling out his chair and plopping down, he crossed his arms and waited for service.

Creek had noticed his entrance.

The two held stares from across the room, one looking stricken at his unexpected customer, and the other smiling, a single eyebrow cocked.

“Not happy to see me?” Guy muttered under his breath, observing as Creek quickly whipped around and spoke to the girl in the kitchen, visible behind a window. She looked up from her phone and shook her head irritably.

A slight squabble ensued, until the girl snapped “I’m on break!” just loud enough for Guy to hear. She then pointed towards him, then at Creek and flicked her wrist. He managed to read a curt “ _You_ do it.” on her lips.

Creek scowled, defeated. He snatched a menu from the nearby shelf and though ever light-footed and poised, Guy Diamond couldn’t help but feel he was treading towards him with the force of a thunder storm.

He noticed as he neared that Creek was letting the most famous Snack Pack signature die in peace. The shocking turquoise melted green of his hair had been neglected, now faded dull with roots grown out in streaks from his scalp.

A menu dropped carelessly and slapped down in front of Guy. He glanced up at his waiter.

“I’d say something about how you should be polite to your customers but…” He drummed his forefinger against the tabletop, with a shrug. “I probably won’t be considered a customer. Don’t really think I can put money into this place and keep a clear conscience.”

“Then why are you here?” Creek asked, hand pressed on his hip. He didn’t even sound angry. Just tired.

With a greeting like that, you would assume it had been mere days since they had last spoken. But it had been a while and it was clear and Guy wanted to ease into that old familiarity as soon as possible.

He grinned. “Maybe I came to get a date with the man in charge! Did you think of that?”

Oh. There’s the anger.

Quick as a breath, a notepad flew from Creek’s pocket and swiftly thwacked Guy upside the head.

“Ow! Fuck, I was kidding!” He cried, clutching the assaulted area. “I was just-…wait.” He gave Creek a baffled look. “Did I miss something? I thought you were anti-violence.”

“So did I.” Creek responded, voice hushed in mock disbelief. “Imagine being _so_ bloody annoying that you make a person forget what their morals are.”

Guy wisely decided not to answer that. Instead, he gestured to the seat opposite him. “You wanna sit?”

“No?”

“Sorry, let me rephrase that.” He sighed before looking up, eyes as stern as he could hold them. “Whether you want to or not, will you please sit?”

“I’m working, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Guy glanced pointedly around the almost vacant dining space. “Damn, are you really that swamped?”

That had not been the correct reply.

Creek’s eyes flared up immediately. “You did that on purpose!”

“Did what?”

“You came in _just_ after the lunch rush! You knew it would be empty at this time of the day and you came in to make fun of how-”

“No, no, I just came in to talk to you!” Guy Diamond fought to be heard over Creek’s voice. It was surreal, really as Guy had always been the louder of the two.

“Now, will you just calm down and sit already?”

The chair scraped gratingly, something he assumed Creek would be mindful of, seeing as he must have paid for the flooring.

He fell into his seat, looking sulky for lack of a better word. He looked up and fixed Guy with a glare. “And don’t tell me to calm down ever again.”

“Okay, fine,” Guy propped his fist against his cheek, sinking into an informality that the other seemed bothered by.

“How’s your Mom?” Creek sat straight, eyebrows shooting up. “My what?”

Guy pressed him with a nod. “Your Mom. How’s she been?”

“She’s-… she’s quite good.” He said faintly, looking almost surprised to be speaking these words at all.

“Did she call you lately-?”

“Oh, she calls me every day now,” Creek answered, before the question was even fully in the air. “She has this-…er… well, a caretaker. I don’t know what else I’d call her but she’s… she makes sure everything’s alright.”

While he barely cracked a smile through the explanation, the way he spoke had a certain lightness to it. Possibly eagerness. “She makes sure Mum eats, makes sure she goes to work and she reminds her to call me and it’s helped so much. Everything’s just been so much easier! Now, she actually-”

He stopped suddenly, jaw clamping shut.

Guy stared at him with expectance. “She actually what-?”

“She’s fine.” Creek said, voice layered with ice, arms re-folding over the table. “That’s all you wanted to know. She’s fine. Now, I’m not going to be pacified by the small talk so can we just get into it, please?”

“What exactly are we getting into?”

Creek did not seem to appreciate the innocently puzzled tone. “You and I both know you only showed up here because you’re angry just like everyone else.”

“Okay, that’s not-”

“And in typical Idiot Diamond fashion, you show up half a year late to blow your top. Don’t any of you understand? Nobody’s going to move on from this until you stop bringing it up-”

“Yes, okay, _that_ I understand!” Guy interrupted. “You’re right. Nobody is going to fix what happened by yelling at you.”

“Yes, yes, that’s right,” Creek’s anger evaporated, now overjoyed that his reasoning was finally comprehended.

“Just like _you’re_ not going to fix what happened by brushing them off like that.”

“That’s-… excuse me?”

Guy nodded vigorously. “Yeah! it’s obvious you need to do something about this but the way you’re going about it is kinda useless, no offense.”

“I-…” Creek was stunned. Stunned and unsurprisingly offended.

_Note to self: Stop saying “No offense.” Ineffective._

“I don’t need to do anything!” He bit back. “I-I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. Who the Hell are you to come in here and say that- I-?!”

“Well, have you tried?!” Guy’s voice rose with panic as Creek attempted to stand from the table. He grabbed hold of his wrist, forcing him back down. “Have you even bothered to think of how to actually fix what you did?”

With an unfathomable gaze, Creek shook his head, not even as a rejection of Guy’s question but as a gesture of hopelessness. “Guy.” He said with far more patience than expected. “I’d have to find the bell.”

“Yeah?”

“I have no idea where the bell is.” Creek slunk into his chair. “It’s in the antique cycle, for God’s sakes. It’s bound to have been passed around at least ten times by different dealers by now.”

Guy Diamond waited for a continuation and after being met with silence for a solid six seconds, shrugged. “Look for it then.”

“……Are you dense?”

“Ehhhh, depends on who you ask.”

“Tracking the bell down would be difficult, Guy. Extremely difficult.”

“I know that.” Guy said gently before his expression eased out, preparing to explain a concept so painfully simplistic, to a full grown man.

_Whatever sublime deity is out there, please give me strength._

“Sometimes you just have to do whatever it takes to redeem yourself. And sometimes it’s not easy at all. But you do it anyway because-”

Guy Diamond put his hand out to stop him but he was too slow. Creek had already shot up. Palms pressed against the table as he glared down at Guy.

“And do you suppose that would fix anything? You’re assuming I throw that stupid bell into their stupid hands and those stupid idiots are going to act like nothing ever happened?”

“What, no!” Guy choked down an incredulous laugh. “No, no, no, no, nooooo. Obviously not. There is no way in Hell Branch and Poppy will ever want anything to do with you. They want you as far away from them as possible. They hate your guts.”

“So, then!” Creek threw his arms out, features tensed. “What’s the bloody point?! They don’t like me and I don’t like them so why should I do anything for-?”

“Okay, so I admit,” Guy stood so he could speak to Creek at eye level. “You have nothing to benefit from it right now. You won’t actually get anything from helping Branch and Poppy _but_ -”

“Oh, fuck off!” He turned with an infuriated wave of his hands, cutting through the rows of tables. Guy scurried after him, sequined attire noisy with the sudden movement.

“Hey, hey, listen! Creek, listen to me! I came here for a reason!”

“Yes, to preach your ‘Do the right thing’ bullshit!” He snapped, with his back to him. “Guy, I don’t have time for this.”

It was at this current moment that Guy Diamond was relieved Creek ran such a shit business. Besides the one customer who was already ambling out the door, the only witness to their argument was Creek’s remarkably uninterested waitress.

Guy lunged, seizing hold of his arm and holding him in place. Luckily, Creek wasn’t all that strong.

“Just. Hear me out. Okay?”

Creek released a heavy sigh, forcing his limb free of Guy’s grasp and knotting it tightly over his chest. His stance read impatient. “Fine.”

“Firstly, I showed up here because I know you,” Guy jutted a diamond ringed finger at him. “And I know that everyone thinks you’re something you’re not. They think you’re an emotionless, evil genius and that’s just ridiculous.”

Creek rose his head to the heavens, in awe of what he felt to be an amazing quantity of stupidity. “It is. Completely ridiculous.”

“Right, you’re not emotionless.”

“Of course not. Nobody’s emotionless.”

“You’re not evil.”

 _“Evil.”_ he rolled his eyes, scoffing in disbelief.

“And I have never met anyone further from a genius in my life.”

A beat.

His breath hitched, expression dropping like a pancake. “E-excuse me?!” He demanded.

“Well, yeah,” Guy Diamond shrugged, hands tucked behind his back and thoroughly unbothered by Creek’s bubbling outrage. “That’s exactly why I’m here. You’re not a genius, Creek. Sometimes you’re not even smart-”

“I’m smart enough to open my own goddamn restaurant, you utter cu-!”

“Anyway!” He spoke over him. “I know what you’re like and you’re dumb as dirt sometimes. You need someone to take you by the hand and lead you out of the mess you made because you don’t know how to get out yourself. When it comes to things like this, at least.”

“The Hell do you mean ‘Things like this’?!” Creek rounded on him, Guy gracefully stepping back as he got just a little too close to his face.

“Well, the way I see it, you’ve been digging yourself into a hole here and there’s only a couple ways you can go about it.”

Guy tilted his head and continued slowly. “You’re young now, sure but you’re just going to get older and nastier by the day. So, in a couple years, the hole will be way too deep for you to climb out of and you’ll be way worse than we can even imagine you being now.”

Creek, saucer eyed, opened his mouth to probably dub his theory as ludicrous, before Guy hurried on.

“However, there’s also the possibility that you’ll grow as a person.”

“I’ve grown enough!” Creek griped.

“No, you haven’t.” Guy said airily, with a dismissive wave. “But imagine it. You might be an uncaring asshole now-”

“Hey!”

“But maybe one day, you’ll be nicer.” His voice dropped to a grave tone. “And you’ll regret what you did. The guilt won’t be fun to live with but there’ll be nothing you can do about it.”

“You’re…er…” He cocked a brow. “Getting a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“That’s my thing!” Guy erupted, pushing an uncomfortable laugh out of Creek’s throat.

“But I’m serious though. Do you really want that stuff on your shoulders for the rest of your life? C’mooooooooon,” He felt himself grin as his whine caused Creek to wince.

“You can make it right if you bother to try. And maybe it won’t mean a lot now, but I know you’ll be glad you did it.”

A silence. Guy Diamond refused to drop eye contact and Creek shifted his weight from one foot to the next, his folded arms tightening. That was never a good sign.

He finally exhaled, an exhausted sound, shoulders drooping as the months weighed down on him. “I’m not doing it.” He said quietly.

Guy’s heart sank.

“They’re not worth the time or the effort. That’s final.”

The moment soaked up negative emotions like a sponge. Both of them stood at opposite sides of a table, silence charged in tension.

It was Guy that spoke up first. “Fine.” The word was not said, but rather spat. If even unintentionally. “Then, I suppose it was nice knowing you.”

The corners of Creek’s lips strained themselves upwards. He expertly (though not without flaws) executed an impersonation of amusement. “Finally had enough of me, yeah?”

Guy didn’t answer, face wound up as he rummaged around in his pocket and withdrew a scrap of paper. Edging around the table, he held it out in front of him.

Creek dipped his head to get a good look. He squinted. “Is this a number?”

“My number.”

“I have your number.”

“Got a new phone.”

“Oh, well… here I was thinking you blocked me.”

“Probably would have blocked you eventually.”

Creek laughed again, quite possibly because he didn’t know how else to respond to this.

“Sooo, just so you know.” He nodded down at the paper in Guy’s hand. “If you really do plan on cutting me off, giving me your number isn’t exactly the way to do it. You don’t do this often, do you?”

Guy’s steady look didn’t waver. “If you ever wise up and decide you want to be a good person, _then_ you’ve got the right to call me. And I’ll help as much as I can.”

“Still have faith in me, do you?” Creek smirked.

“Yes.” He replied without hesitation.

Creek looked a little thrown off, eyes snapping uncertainly to the side.

“However if you insist on staying like this forever then-…then that’s it. I don’t want to hear a word from you ever again. You’re-…” Guy swallowed. “You’re not worth the time or the effort. That’s final.”

The surprise drained from Creek’s eyes and a hardened look settled in. One that shifted itself sourly as he spoke again. “And who’s to say I won’t call you _pretending_ to want change?”

Guy wrinkled his nose at the very notion. “Oh, you won’t.”

“I won’t?” Creek taunted, bitterness dripping off the tongue.

“No.” He answered simply. “Because I know you won’t lie to me anymore.”

With that, he set the number on the nearest table and broke the exchange.

“Alright, wait one minute.”

Guy looked over his shoulder.

Creek smiled, a pleasant expression so different from that sneer he had adopted in recent years. “Whatever happens, just remember that you were my friend for the longest time and I’ll always care about you.”

_…Sounds like it’s not just cigarettes he’s smoking anymore._

Bafflement etching his features, Guy backtracked but before he could even manage an “Excuse me?” Creek quickly added “Now, you can’t say I won’t lie to you, can you?”

Everything paused in a moment of utter disbelief. A silence soon ruptured by Guy’s sudden burst of short-lived laughter.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Creek.” He threw back his head, beaming as he stepped away and headed for the exit.

Stopping by the door, he twirled around and curled a finger through his snowy hair. “Oh, yeah and I was told to inform you,” He called across the restaurant. “You need a haircut.”

Creek had never looked less amused in his life. Expression blank, he pointed curtly to the door. “Just leave already.”

“So, what kind of goodbye is this anyway? Goodbye forever? Goodbye for a few months until you’re not an idiot anymore? Goodbye until, uh…?” He trailed off.

Creek had his back to him, tucking in the chairs they had left pulled out. He had officially deemed the conversation over.

Guy chose to leave after that, deciding that there was only so much you could do. He could try to season in some humour all he wanted, but in the long run, it didn’t seem like Creek wanted to improve at all. And that stung more than just a little.

Outside’s chill shocked his skin, sending him into a shudder. Yet he remained rooted to the spot, cold hands tapping against upper thighs as he lingered below the overhanging ‘Namaste.’

Guy finally took a step. No specific direction in mind, but it was progress. A whistle tuned out from puckered lips as he moseyed past the wide windows. Vacant tables and chairs from inside were all he could see, instantly recognizing the one he and Creek had both stood from in their argument.

From there, he watched the scene play out.

Creek’s expression was familiarly composed and his stride professional as he wound around the dining area and approached a certain table. He didn’t spare the paper a glance but neatly folded it in half, and slipped it into his pocket. With that, he turned around, heading back towards the kitchen.

And he knew that it was possible (and even likely) that Creek was planning on burning that phone number over one of his stoves, in an action of personal spite.

But Guy Diamond smiled anyway.

After all, If he didn’t hope for the best, what kind of optimist would he be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [One hell of a pleasant morning](http://ask-artsy-oncie.tumblr.com/post/166592910483)
> 
> [ITS THEM!!!](https://fruity-soda.tumblr.com/post/164254825776)
> 
> [KISSESSS!!!](https://thetrolltree.tumblr.com/post/165641759574)
> 
> [Smooth af](https://le-poule.tumblr.com/post/165512353148)
> 
> [SHE](https://cherbur.tumblr.com/post/167804952434)
> 
> [HE](https://cherbur.tumblr.com/post/167823373634)
> 
> [THEY](https://anyalove16.tumblr.com/post/165484965539)


	23. Chapter 23

Busy. That was the word for it.

Sometimes, when Branch was alone, he thought back to locked doors and breakdowns on his bedroom floor. Of course, he was busy back then too. Homework, Starfunkles, weekly poetry submissions.

Plus, he would consider rooming with Poppy as a fulltime job in its own right. It ate away at his time and energy like any job would.

But now it was a different kind of busy. A less obligational kind. Now he was busy because of party planning, because of his friends, because of Poppy. Specifically, because they took up a huge chunk of his world now.

And it was a world Branch loved to be in.

An up-and-a-down topsy turvy kind of world. When the bliss was high, he would call it dreamlike but even on a sober day, he would still shrug and say he had it good. Real good.

There were still bad days. Hell, they _were_ part of the whole topsy turvy package. What did you expect?

Poppy sometimes fell into old habits. She worried about who she was, being caught bottling up stress behind a clenched toothed cheery smile. But all she needed was reassurance. Whether happy, sad, angry or all it once, she was Poppy through and through.

And of course, Branch still had his slumps. Slumps that varied just like old times. There were those days where he was tired and numb. And there were days when his nastiest thoughts were felt as strong as a punch in the stomach.

But again, reassurance worked wonders. Luckily Poppy had a bone to pick with that lone spiteful voice that chastised from inside his own head.

And finally, sometimes there were mishaps because it was their own damn fault.

Branch still grinned every time he remembered the look on Poppy’s face, as he reminded her of their second-year anniversary. What followed was a shriek to burst all eardrums.

He couldn’t say he took it personally. If Branch considered himself busy then Poppy was surely swamped. She had a tendency to forget things. But then again, she also was the type of person who celebrated their relationship almost daily.

What’s an official anniversary to someone with no regards for specific dates but enough love to mother a city?

Speaking of which, their third would be in the coming months. Branch made a mental note to remind her later. As funny as her reaction was last year, he really shouldn’t let her worry so much again.

Branch wasn’t going to act like he was perfect either. He too made a few mistakes that brought this whole ‘Life’ operation to a screeching halt.

Hell, three weeks ago he had to be driven to the emergency room. He remembered sitting in the waiting area, with Poppy at his side. She wore a single high heeled shoe, cocktail umbrella in her hair, drunk off her ass. Branch was too, so he couldn’t criticize.

At least Bridget and Gristle weren’t angry at him for ruining their engagement party.

But all that was in the past. Right now, he was focusing on the future. Currently, his future entailed a flicker of hope that Poppy had already started on dinner, as he powerwalked past their neighbours doors.

Earbuds plugged in, deaf to the world around him, Branch had gotten into a bad habit.

_“Aw, you’re the best friend that I’ve ever had,”_

Singing in public. Or in the hearing vicinity of his neighbours.

_“I’ve been with you such a long time,”_

He fished his keys out his jeans and unlocked his door.

_“You’re my sunshine!”_

Skidding across the hallway floor, Branch met face-to-face with a hung mirror. _“And I want you to know-”_

He gave his reflection a smirk, fluffing the tuft of indigo atop his head before placing a hand over his heart. _“My feelings are true-”_

 _“I really loooove yoooouuuuu,”_ Tuned in an enthused soprano, appearing from around the corner.

“ _You’re my best friend.”_   They completed in unison.

Branch ripped out his earbuds. “That was a solo.”

His look aimed for deadpan but one look at her standing there and his face lit up like a flip of switch. They hadn't seen each other since this morning, after all.

“Not anymore.” Poppy chirped, bouncing ever so subtly on the spot, arms swaying playfully from side to side. She spun around and returned to where she came from, beckoning him after her.

Branch followed.

“Okaaaaaay, so about dinner…” She began, plopping down to kneel by their coffee table. Scrapbook construction was underway with technicoloured paper shreds, glue, glitter and google eyes littering the surface.

Spongey the Dolphin supervised the process from her high ground above a stack of Poppy’s library books.

“Yeah?” Branch shed his backpack and dropped it at the edge of the couch.

“We’re ordering Chinese.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Again?”

“Uh huh.” Poppy was snipping away at a shape of rich blue felt. “I had it in my head that I was gonna cook it myself, I really did buuuut…”

“It slipped your mind.” Said Branch as he fell into the couch crease.

“Slipped my mind.” She nodded, applying paste to the felt shape. “I’m really sorry, bud. It’s just-…I’ve been-…” She twirled her wrist to the side of her head, fingers fluttering to articulate flightiness. “There’s been a lot going on. With-with school and the charity stuff and-”

“Poppy, it’s fine” Branch soothed. He was slouched comfortably, arms folded loose and breathing visible in the easy rise and fall of his stomach. “I can cook dinner.”

Poppy made a noncommittal noise. “Ehhh, I didn’t wanna make you cook today. I mean, you don’t usually have your sessions and meetings on the same day so I thought you’d be real tired soooo-…”

She perked up. “Actually, tell me how that went.” The scrapbooking supplies in her hands were promptly dropped, clattering against the table as Poppy leaned forward, intertwining her fingers with rapt attention. “How was your day, cupcake?”

He gazed back at her questionably. “You want to know about my session or the meeting?”

“Hmm. Both. Session first.”

Branch pulled himself out his slouch, with an exhale like a bus coming to a stop. “It went alright. Jean says we’re making progress. Also,” His lip tried not to twitch into a smile. “We learned something very important today.”

Poppy’s look was dry as a bone. “And what did you learn?” She droned expectantly.

“I have-…” Branch whispered gravely. “-Some issues.”

She threw her head to the ceiling with a roll of her eyes. “Please, I am _begging_ you. Give that joke a rest already!”

“It’s funny!”

“No, it’s not. Anyways, tell me about the meeting. Did you guys talk about me?”

Branch hesitated to answer, piquing Poppy’s interest.

“You _did_ talk about me!”

“You’re my illustrator. Of course we talked about you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah but what did _you_ say exactly? Did your publishers talk about how I was a creative genius or what?”

“Well, Darla might have made some unwanted suggestions…”

“Ugh!” Poppy faked a gag. _“Darla.”_

 _“Darla.”_ Branch agreed, with a similar voice of disgust. “I don’t like her either but…God, you’re going to really hate her once you hear this,”

“What she do, babe?” Elbows pressed against the table, Poppy’s cheeks squished in the cup of her palms.

“So, she’s under the impression that my poems-…” Branch pulled a face at the memory. “-Don’t match the scrapbooking style. She said they would look too silly next to each other.”

Poppy huffed. “Darla wouldn’t know a compatible match if it bit in her in the ass.”

 “That’s what I thought!” He nodded. “So, anyway, I said to her “Listen, bitch-”

He was interrupted by a bubble of sudden laughter.

“What?”

“Branch, I know you didn’t actually call Darla a bitch.”

“Well, no, it was subtext. But anyway, I told her that she was a genius for seeing that the two styles are pretty different from each other,”

She quirked a brow. “Sarcasm?”

Branch affirmed with a click of his tongue “Sarcasm. And I pointed out that it would make it stand out more when up against every other poetry book on the market. But of course, the woman is blind to originality. She’s old, y’know, she likes to do things by the book.”

“Did you fight her?”

“I got pretty damn close. I ended up telling her that my illustrator and partner is a very important part of my life and I wanted the book to mirror her personality, just as much as it does mine."

“Awwwww!” Poppy smiled fondly, cheeks aglow. “You went and got stupidly sentimental in front of your publishers.”

“Yeah and they didn’t give two shits.” Branch grumbled before shrugging it off. “But hey, Darla dropped the subject once she saw I was being stubborn about it.”

“My man fights for his art. I love it!”

He chuckled, resting his arms over his knees as he nodded to the open space on the couch in invitation.

Her face split a grin and quick as a flash, Poppy stood. She plonked herself on the armrest opposite Branch before letting her muscles go loose and toppling into the couch with a poof of cushions.

“Hi!” She greeted, head dropped into his lap, a glint caught in her eyes from the overhanging lightbulb.

He raised a hand and gently wiped the flyaway strands of hair out of her face. While it had been tamed in a hair-tie, the tight ponytail tended to droop and slip apart as the day dragged on.

The messier the hair, the more frazzled the Poppy.

“So, what did you do today?” Branch asked, scratching at the back of her head.

She hummed thoughtfully. “I worked a little on your illustrations and I think I studied for like an hour but it was mostly planning. Lots and lotsa planning. Oh! We finally decided on what to do for a fundraiser. It was Bridget’s idea!”

Branch flinched, an ominous horror filling his stomach.

_Not again. Never again._

“ _Please_. Please tell me it’s not another marathon. I can’t do another one, Poppy, I can’t…”

“Relaaaax, bud,” Poppy laughed carelessly. Her arms stretched to link around his neck, which she used to hoist herself into a sitting position. “Nobody wants you planking in the street again. We learned our lesson the first time. Nah, it’s a talent show.”

_Oh. Oh, fuck yes._

Branch instantly brightened, inhaling so fast he almost choked. But before he could get a word out, Poppy pressed a finger to his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, your name was the first I jotted down. You’re already accounted for. Buuuuuut…” She teased, waggling a finger in his direction. “You better behave yourself.”

“Behave myself?!” An astonished mix of a chuckle and scoff escaped his throat. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m a grown man-”

“A grown man and a show off,” Poppy jabbed, with an affectionate poke to his cheek. “Just leave some stage for the rest of us, why don’tcha?”

Branch smirked. “I will if you will.” He sing-songed.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t act all innocent like you haven’t tried to start a Flash Mob in a supermarket before!”

“It was a social experiment! I wanted to see if people would join in like they do on TV,”

“I keep telling you, the Flash Mobs on TV rehearse,” Branch argued, automatically hooking her hip and pulling her inwards. “You just walked in as a One Woman Show and freaked out a bunch of Bergens.”

“Hey, now, I’m pretty sure a couple of them filmed it,” Poppy wriggled into the lull of his body heat. “If anything, I got ‘em a bunch of followers on social media.”

He didn’t feel the need to retaliate but laughed lightly. Her head settled into the crook of his neck like a perfect fitting puzzle piece.

Their hands had found each other though he wasn’t sure when and there was silence.

A traditional kind of silence. One that came after the prior buffering hours caught up with them. A silence where they were happy to sit, lazy and entangled and forget time existed for just a little while.

Poppy peered up at him and while her smile was tiny, it was all Branch needed. A smile that read ‘I missed you,’ and he returned the sentiment, not with his voice but with a peck to the top of her head.

These were the times where Branch appreciated every resilient string that tied them to each other. He also tended to entertain a thought. To be fair, it was not a thought he could seriously consider. Not right now. But maybe a sweeter alternative would tide them over for the time being.

“Poppy,”

“Mmm…?”

“Grab my backpack?”

“Yep,” Poppy sat up and crawled across the couch. She tossed him his bag while folding her legs in to sit comfortably on her knees.

“Alright.” He shoved a hand inside to rummage around. “Now, close your eyes.”

“Do what now?”

“You heard me.”

While not saved a questioning look, she humoured him.

“Keep them closed, okay?”

Poppy nodded patiently, as Branch dug through the cluttered contents. Notebooks, pens, a foil wrapped sandwich-… oh, fuck. How long had that been there?

He caught a flutter of eyelids and his head shot up. “I said close them!”

A spurt of giddy giggles made his head spin, as she hid her eyes behind brightly coloured ring-and- bangled hands.

Her tongue was a popping pink between her teeth, something Branch quickly tore his distracted gaze from and resumed searching.

_Find it, find it, find it,_

“Found it!” He breathed, relieved.

“Huh?”

“Don’t look yet, goddammit!” Branch snapped reflexively, ducking it under his hand as the light of her irises seeped through her fingers.

It wasn’t until he was certain she wouldn’t peak, that he hastily tore off the wrapper.

“Alright, you’re good.”

Suffice to say, the reaction needed to process.

Her smile was puzzled at best as she blinked down at the Strawberry Ring Pop that Branch was presenting her. But as seconds tick, tick, ticked, a shadow of realization crossed her features and he saw the inaudible gasp fill her lungs.

“You gonna take it this time?” He dared to ask.

Poppy’s smile wobbled, looking a little overcome. Both hands clasped his own for a moment, a ‘Thank you’ in its cradle and taking the sugary jewel, slid it over her finger.

It shouldn’t mean much. It really shouldn’t.

But the finally factual statement ‘Poppy accepted that silly Ring Pop’ sent a shudder up his spine and his heart thumped just a little quicker.

They shared a look, expressions matched in their beams before Poppy broke the stare. She spilled into his arms and he hugged her tight, radiant exuberance coming off them in waves.

That day, their laughs were more hysterical than need be, their jokes pitifully unfunny and their ‘I love you’s anything but poetic.

And while their milestones that followed brought happiness so raw it ached and tears that welled like high tide, that day, that dull, uneventful day was forever seared in his memory. Because of that moment alone.

Years would pass and Branch would still recall the soft of her touch and sticky strawberry glazing her lips. That day was immortalized as the day Poppy accepted.

And the moments that came afterwards still replayed in his head. Dizzy smiles, loving touches and a song they loudly sung while draped over the couch because they were a pair of kids, who didn’t know when to shut the fuck up.

_“Do you remember the 21st night of September? Love was changing the minds of pretenders, while chasing the clouds away.”_


End file.
